


In my wildest dreams

by Book_of_Kells



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3419024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_of_Kells/pseuds/Book_of_Kells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tauriel Woods is a corporate lawyer and Kili is on the opposing side.  As the meeting drags on,  imaginations run a little smutty..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She Said....

It was supposed to be simple, just a routine day. A lovely Seattle morning with Starbucks coffee beans roasting on the breeze. But like everything else in my life, it wasn’t well simple. It started out with my favorite hairdryer of all time shooting flaming sparks into my hair like a something out of the movie _Maximum Overdrive_. Great movie but the idea of fire next to my gel soaked hair gives me the willies and machines having a mind of their own is bad, bad, BAD.

Since said piece of equipment hadn’t made contact with the sink or the floor lately (its an accident, I swear) I unplugged the hyperactive hand tool of hair destruction to see that it was clogged with lint and hair. If a dryer’s one purpose in life is to blow hair, why did it have hair clogging it? Do my hair strands defy gravity and laws of physics or were hairdryers actually hair magnets? I quickly decided those where questions for other minds that were more in tune with mechanics than I would ever be. Finishing up my morning toilette now require me to be creative with my hairstyle. A French twist is my fallback but still a classic. Plunging the bobby pins into the unfortunate red mass on my head takes skill, I’m glad I didn’t have that crazy idea again about shaving my head.

The next problem hit me when I pulled out my favorite Donna Karen midnight blue suit from the dry cleaner bag to see a tear on the jacket hem that I had missed when I picked it up. I love my drycleaner people, so very nice and helpful. It is a perk to find a good cleaner like a good hairdresser but sadly, I love that damn suit more. No more Golden Wood Clothiers if I can’t trust them to do right by my unfortunately expensive things.

Now I was fifteen minutes behind schedule as I yanked my dark green Ralph Lauren standby out of the closet to do a quick inspection. Jacket looked good, no visible stains, a little dusty at the shoulders that a quick bush would alleviate. The pencil skirt underneath just skimmed the bottom of my kneecap for respectability but the slit up the side would raise more than an eyebrow. Normally, I wouldn’t consider it for the Durin meeting but I wasn’t leading the delegation only sitting in as the Greenwood’s legal representative. No one would be getting a view of my La Perla undies unless they were scavenging under the boardroom table.

Thranduil Lasgalen had been my benefactor and I am his pitbull in Jimmy Choos, the one who goes after his enemies. Oh, I don’t use swords or knives to cut them down, mostly injunctions and lawsuits. I bind them in enough legalese to make them go blind from the paperwork. For Thanduil and his son, Legolas, no price is too great. Whether Thranduil could see that side of me when I was a destitute eighteen year old is hard to say, all I know is that I refuse to fail him now. Besides watching grown men cry in court is my secret thrill.

Greenwood LLC has been an innovator in green products and cleaner earth living for the last twenty years, the fun part comes when people like the Durin Group want to buy or lease our lands. Miners are a played out field and the Durin’s know it. Cleaner energy is coming every year and Canadian boys are fast tracking new ways to stay afloat. So today we are negotiating about copper deposits in one of our Montana parcels of land.

Realizing that I am still fifteen minutes behind doesn’t soothe my temper, neither does the jagged pinky nail corner that runs my last pair of nude hose. Snarling isn’t going to help, especially now that I have to miss my Starbucks run on the way to work. Grabbing a pair of sheer black thigh highs with a grimace, my legs are too white to go bare. The kcup machine is my last stop as I quickly fill up a travel mug. My assistant, Alfrid could make the Starbucks run but I don’t trust him within a mile of anything I eat or drink. Slamming out of my apartment, I wish on every star in heaven that the day improves.

Timing accounts for a lot in life, especially at the Greenwood Building. The four elevator banks run much slower than the standard what with the company’s position on conservation, the electricity is used at a minimum. Usually there are lines sweeping around into the Atrium as employees queue up for a turn to get to their floor. The office drones who work on the lower levels and don’t mind hoofing it, take the stairs. But the higher ups with the higher salaries get the privilege of getting packed into the tin cans like sardines. The only thing missing is the brine.

The Atrium flowers today were in full bloom, an allergy attack waiting to happen. Legolas had whined hideously with a beak redder than a tomato that the gardeners should focus on trees not snot inducing flora. Thranduil had a point about the visuals as he kindly overruled his son, the roses were gorgeous with ferns and low bonsais to give them depth. Azaleas hugged against a tranquil pool as Japanese koi flipped and slashed to the attendant who tossed food into the water. It was beautiful, peaceful only for its view. Any congregating though was discouraged, it might cause a work related accident.

Texting to my toady, Alfrid to meet me on the meeting room assigned on the eighteenth floor, an extra space opened up in the next sardine can.   Slipping inside, the smells of so many people in a small space almost knocked me to my knees. Different mixtures of cologne and perfume hung in the air like an oppressive cloud waiting to smack your sinuses faster than the flowers downstairs. There are days I miss smoking since it kept my olfactories under control, this is just another one. The mirrored door of the sardine can in front of me reflects a powerful business woman who is two steps away from a nosebleed.

Thankfully, the barrel ride stops, the doors open giving me that deep punch of air conditioned coolness that I so desperately crave. The overhead vent dumps what feels like a pounds of pressured air on me to shove away the clinging scents. August isn’t a bad month here, balmy with the prerequisite rain. AC is a gift from a benevolent god and should be used liberally, not like cologne or perfume. Maybe a discreet note to HR referencing the overuse of personal odors, wouldn’t they just love that!

Alfrid stands outside of the conference room in his normal mode, squinty with a side of fidgety. My toady carries two leather bound portfolios in one hand, and unopened bottle of water in the other. There was a long and very detailed discussion about my water bottles at the beginning of our working relationship so now he knows never to open it for me. He follows close behind like a vulture to help me prepare for this dead buffalo of a meeting.

Idril Silvers and Turgon Lord are already here, taking places two spaces down from me. Idril smiles as she always does though Turgon does not. He hasn’t forgiven me for saying no to some office sex during last year’s Christmas Party. Like I would allow myself that level of vulnerability in the modern age of cellphones and Instagram? Pressed and dressed, he still cuts a fine figure thought I don’t relish being a notch on anyone’s briefcase. They were part of the merger last year with Gondolin Energy, securing new jobs as heads of their division. So far they have lived up to their level of pay despite Turgon’s attitude.

I take out my cellphone, making sure the ringer is off. Twice. My OCD gets the better of me sometimes when I see someone in every meeting forget to do the same. The hilarity of some peoples’ ringtones wears off really quick, but jokes at their expense never do. Taking the leather covers, they go on the table in front of me. In between is a fresh legal pad and a quick write up of calls that have already started this morning. Alfrid the Toady hands off the water, cold but not frozen as I quickly glance at the seal. Intact, good.

He takes my briefcase from me to be stored in my office, but not until I retrieve my Surface out and the charger. He quickly boots it up for me so that I can get started. While he is a toady and a reformed gossip whore, Alfrid is very efficient. I know he bullys the other admins and there was talk of him slipping something he shouldn’t have in the drink of his last boss, hence my phobia. But until he really screws up, I am saddled with him like a rented pack mule.

“Do you require anything else?” His tone is bland, soft and entirely too close to my ear. He needs Listerine, soon.

Not taking my eyes off the Surface screen, I fight the urge to take a step back. “No. I want to go over what you have compiled for the Umber lawsuit this afternoon.”

My assistant slinks off to do my officious bidding. A rumor circulated to me that Legolas wanted my toady gone but had no real way of doing it. Alfrid was assigned to me in hopes of me making his life hellish enough that he would quit. The Lasgalen heir obviously didn’t know me well if that rumor was true. Humble beginnings had ingrained few truths in me but one still held. I might cut someone off at the knees for the smallest things but I have tons of respect for the working class.

“What is your opinion of the meeting?”Idril sides up to me quietly, so quiet it catches me unaware.

The woman is pale on pale, white pantsuit over equally white skin. The only color if it could be called that is a twisted silver necklace and matching earrings. Her dark hair is short in a pixie style, attractive if she wore feminine clothes and make up. But she doesn’t and the effect is very mannish. I like her in general, she is always polite and somewhat sweet. Idril will be the token tree hugger in this meeting and based on the others attending they will know it too.

“There will be a lot of back and forth. They want the property to strip mine or just mine. We would rather it stay pristine. The end will be a compromise that neither party will like. I need the right impressions now so when I take them to court for contractual breach in six months.” I gave her my most happy smile like a child in a candy store. “I will be wearing their guts for garters.”

“You like your job, don’t you?” The fearful tinge to her expression jingled my natural instinct for jugular cutting.    

I wiped my face clean of the possible legal victory that gave me such joy. “Is that not important?”

Her eyes wide, Idril returned to her seat. She didn’t run, just quick and quiet again. Turgon’s lips curled in disgust, like I was unnatural or something. If the mama’s boy didn’t like the game, he shouldn’t step onto my playing field. Nothing I had said could land me in HR, nothing too offensive other than the guts comment for visual’s sake. But again I had just scared a rabbit for no reason. Giving a mental sigh, my phone lit up with a text message.

Reading the text quickly, I told them that Thranduil, Legolas and the Durins were in the building. They would take Thranduil’s express lift on the backside of the building instead of waiting with the rest of the lemmings. The Lasgalens had gone to meet the Durins group for an early breakfast at their hotel, lingering over coffee. Legolas had wanted her to attend but I would have been the only female in what he termed as a bunch of alpha male types. Not always a good thing unless you have the right spin on it. My tongue is sharp and my retorts can be cutting, not popular to insecure males.

I don’t always hit the nail on the head but I come pretty close when I need to read people and get a line on their motivations. The extra Psych classes I took in college qualified me for a minor, a few more would have gotten me a bachelor’s. Being able understand your opponent in court was essential, it meant the difference between winning and losing a case. Since losing isn’t an option, knowing thy enemy is important. Alfrid was an assistant and dirt finder but not my paralegal, that was Faramir. Alfrid finds out all the gossipy morsels while Faramir helped me use them in court. Grinding down defendants with a history of DUIs wasn’t pretty but you still won.

Opening up the portfolios, the top one was the notes and outline for the meeting. Pros and cons for the sale. The projected costs for what the Durins would do, how long it would take the land to recover from what they did, as well as environmental studies and net profits. Durin’s bottom line would be much healthier after the big equipment moved out the top layer.

The next yielded the rap sheets as Faramir calls it. All the information that could be gathered in the three week time frame that Alfrid could mine if you pardon the pun. The family history, company formation, Dun and Bradstreet approximation and ratings. It was a solid company but not public yet. A venture like this would help them in the long run to that endzone.

Their lawyer with them was family, Balin Durin. Old and rather good at setting precedent case wins if I was reading this right. That might be a problem. Old lawyers like that who weren’t Ivy League or Cali learned didn’t have the fear quota, it was harder to intimidate them. Thranduil had paid for me to go to Stanford where I graduated at the top, Balin had graduated from a cow college I didn’t know like Texas U. On scholarship. He had clawed his way up the ladder for what he had, just like me though admittingly much harder than me. But still, like recognizes like.  

Bard Daleton was the first one in the room, all smiles and jokes. He was the closer of the group, the one who keeps everyone’s feathers from getting ruffled. There had been too many phone calls from him over the last lawsuit that I handled. The opposing counsel was an old sailing buddy of his and the idiot thought Daleton held my leash. Its stuff like that the makes me take a guy’s summerhouse and his retirement as part of whatever settlement, and then I go victory shopping.

There is gruff laughter as a smaller man walks in with a thick white beard and it makes me glad I had not taken a seat. Balin Durin was not what I thought he would be based on the file so far, shorter than me by half a foot at least. I am not a tall woman but in heals I am taller than average. Today, I unsheathed the Jimmy Choos in an effort to feel better about my bad morning. The extra three and some inches were at this moment a blessing, allowing me to look down on him a bit. Seeing the twinkle in his eye, Balin wasn’t concern about his height disadvantage in this room. The feeling that not much intimidated him wiggled in my mind like fish on a hook. Beating him into submission in court would be a challenge, if his modest grin told me anything about the man.

The two men that followed in Balin’s wake were not much taller. The dark one was handsome but with an older, gruff feel, no smiles hiding in that white streaked beard. The company’s CEO, Thorin Durin. Gray threaded his hair in clumps almost like a bad highlighting job but it worked well for him. Men can get by with showing their age where women look like they are letting themselves go. The face was harsh in a middle class way, sunburned and creased. He spent a lot of time outdoors, probably keeping a vigilant eye on employees. Research would tell if that were so, where his specific finger lay in company’s operations. If he worked too many areas, then he was heading for a coronary. People who cannot delegate responsibility invite stress like a friend request. Mr. Durin looked too young to drop dead of a stroke just yet.

The shorter blond man strutting behind Thorin like he was at a fashion show had to be family. The hired help even six figure VPs, didn’t show that level of arrogance unless they were banging the chairman’s daughter. The little Romeo had the balls to wink a blue eye at me before turning that charming smile on full wattage to Idril. He had a youthful face and ruffliy beard too much like the older Mr. Durin beside him. A deep breath behind me said Idril liked what she saw. Tree huggers, oy. She would be eye fucking him the whole meeting and now completely useless. Looking down at the rest of the sheets, I missed Thranduil and Legolas’ entrance in their Saville Row suits. But then I missed the last Durin’s arrival too.

The introductions began with Bard at his most genial. Idril and Turgon rise to my right, shuffling out of their cushy chairs. Bard gave little cute bits of info on each person to humanize them to the group, so that we didn't seem like monsters waiting for our pound of flesh. Daleton was a people person and right about now I was glad of it. I had put off reading this file yesterday to bone up for the next maneuver of the Umber LLC. The fact that I had not done my research now bothered me, thinking that this situation was a cake walk and I would be out in time for lunch. But I missed the last arrival to the room.

“This is our lead counsel, Tauriel Woods.” Bard started in, gamely pressing on as I put the Surface over the Durin notes to look up at him. “She has been with the company for since graduation.”

“She must have learned a great deal at Stanford, Mr. Daleton for she never loses a case.” Balin said with a smile.

It was a complete Santa Claus moment, I was waiting for him to lay a finger on the side of his nose. A small smile escaped me as I nodded to him but said nothing. I tend to save my banter up for court, a dry wit with a hint of saucy. Balin seemed ok with it my silence but didn’t push. He might have under conditions, courtesy would have demanded a rejoinder on friendly terms. Obviously, Mr. Balin attorney at law had done research too and read it before walking into the room. Point for him.  

I looked down the line as Bard motioned to someone he called Kili, hidden between Legolas and the screen behind him. A dark version of the Idril’s eye candy stepped into view and I swear my left knee trembled. My body immediately locked itself into its current position, any type of body movement could be misconstrued at this moment. Had I been taking a step, I would have left my foot dangling in midair until the sensation of physical awareness passed. My jaw wasn’t slack which was a mark in the positive column at the moment. What the hell just happened?

He wasn’t pretty with those dark looks, not like the blond. Rough cut features surrounded expressive brown eyes with an untidy mop of curls that I knew I could tangle my fingers in for a few days. Looking down at my notes, I saw his name listed as Kili Durin, Thorin’s nephew. There was no telling what was showing on my face, so I kept my head down to get some control. It had been a visceral reaction to him and I couldn’t understand why my body became a burning inferno. The last time I had that feeling had been in college at wrestling match. One of the visiting teams had a member that made very cell in my body stand up and scream. Kinda like now..

My hips rotated a little and all at once, I was afraid I had just thrust my pelvis at him. It was like my hormones became a pornographic cheerleader chanting ‘Get the Penis, Get the Penis!” Since when did my body wake up with an opinion like this? College had educated the sex right out of me, giving me a primitive appreciation for scholastic achievement. I won’t say that I have sexual release when I win in court but it feels better than the humping I have had in the past. Sneaking a glance at the dark haired Kili as we take our seats, I realize that the sex part is entirely my fault. I had the wrong partners. He would give me a ride to remember.

Legolas took a seat beside me with a smile which I return. It was a friendly smile on his face and I hope by extension on mine. Normally, I know down to the slightest crease on my forehead what I am projecting to others. Bland smile, relaxed features, I don’t have a care in the world. Now suddenly, with the Durin guy seated four seats to my left across the table, my face is probably laying out the welcome mat to my pussy in the clearest possible terms. The scratchy lace at the top of my thigh highs rub against skin as I clench and unclench my upper legs. Clinching my jaw, my breathing won’t slow as much as I would like. It isn’t panting but damnit it might be in other situations.

Looking over the other Durins, the reactions to each as different topics are discussed help but don’t stop the need that is beginning to build in my loins. Kili is right there and I am dying to see if he tastes as good as he looks. To run my tongue up that long neck and nibble on his ear as I jack his cock, those thoughts have desire running in my body, hot and liquid. Sweeping the faces, my gaze stops at his brother, Fili according to my notes, who is too busy with Idril to notice my distress. Thorin makes a good point but addresses Kili and I am right back where I started. Staring at him, hopefully without desperate longing.

My mind is a blank as his lips move but I do not hear what he is saying. Those lips of his were full, not collagen filled like the women here but plump in a masculine way. An image flashes through my mind of those lips on my nipples, then pulling back to reveal teeth as he nips at my skin. The resulting flood of intense craving sideswipes me and I clear my throat to hide my gasp. Looking at Balin was a safe bet earlier but as I grab my bottle of water, he is scribbling on a notepad between himself and Thorin. Jeeze, the meeting is getting away from me as I gulp a third of the twenty ounce.

Thranduil asks me a question but my mind is still circling my wet panties when I see Kili’s lips tug slightly in a smirk. My answer is non-committal which the best I can hope. That smirk of Kili’s is now on loop in my fucked up head. He would wear that same smirk on his fuzzy mug before he buries it between my spread legs, lapping at my cunt like a demon. Or using those thick fingers to tease me into begging for him to fuck me hard.    

My body temperature is rising and it isn't because someone has the wrong setting on the thermostat. Idril has a sappy smile on her face as she types something on her laptop. It has a dreamy quality of a long drawn out sigh. Probably doodling Idril loves Fili or Mrs. Silvers-Durin or other sappy shit that I don’t care about. I have no idea what is showing on my face at this moment and it begins to worry me. Flushed probably, harsh hopefully, but frisky would be Bad! The last thing Thranduil needs is a lawyer in the room who would like to commit sexual assault on a member the opposing team. Hmmm.. I wonder what _his_ member looks like.

Thankfully Bard calls for a bathroom break that has me running for the door like an Olympic sprinter. This Durin guy was driving me crazy and the problem was, he probably didn’t know. Strike three, I chant over and over as I void my bladder only to wipe a suspiciously sopping wet area between my legs. Its so humid in my crotch, you might think I was trying to smuggle the Everglades to Seattle! Looking at the damp silk, all I can do is shake my head at this point. My vagina is so swollen with arousal, I am almost afraid to go back in that room.

I practice a few expressions in the mirror as I wash up, finding something between a grimace and my barracuda look that will work. As I exit, Legolas is waiting outside which is a first. He normally hangs in the men’s room not loitering outside the women’s.

“Everything ok?” The white blond asks with his head cocked to the side in concern. “You ran out quick and normally you are more verbal in these meetings.”

“Sure. I don’t think I ate enough this morning.” Banging my head on the wall behind me, won’t change that my mind has been in my snatch for the last hour and some minutes. The fact that the Lasgalens are depending on me hurts that I have failed them this morning.

We walk back into the boardroom with others still milling around the room or outside on the balcony. I swipe a cereal bar as a cover with another bottle of water before taking my seat. Legolas looks at the Durins outside smoking but obviously discussing us as well.   Kili is closest to the door with his brother on the other side of their Uncle Thorin. Balin walks to them with them from another door. The younger Durin pulls out his cell to begin scrolling through something but typing quickly.

Legolas turns his back to them as he looks down at me. “Don’t they know smoking is out of style?”

If it was a dig at the out of towners, I can not say but responded offhand. “Maybe it isn’t in their part of the world. But they seem to know what they are doing with their projects.”

“Impressions?” Legolas folds his arms at his chest. He seems to take the bait of my bland remark.

I look at the Durins again for a minute, fighting an acid comment that my first impression was I needed to get laid. But since Legolas wanted to know about the opposition, I tried to get a handle on my libido. Leaning forward slightly, the first thought at watching them a minute outside was that they are close. Thorin might make the decisions but he relies on the nephews for support. Considering the joking, the comradery that I can see, they are at ease with each other as well as themselves. Not always true in strong willed families, someone is going to fight for dominance. But in their case, the love is stronger. Before I can relay these ideas to Legolas, Kili turns towards the boardroom to look straight at me, scattering every thought that I possessed.

He didn’t smirk like he did earlier, only stared. His body was turned to them but he looked over his shoulder in my direction as he exhales the smoke from his lungs into the wind. I hold his gaze as a deep hot throb begins between my legs. Whatever they said outside had nothing to do with me since the others didn’t look either, but something spurred him to watch me quietly. It was fascination, _maybe_ , but the look on his face had my nipples pebbling in their silk cups.

He embraces my attention as the throb in my core begins to feel like a second heartbeat. The sun was peaking out there, clouds giving chase across the balcony floor. The wind ruffled his curly hair at his ears, along the strong jaw line. I want him like nothing else in the universe. I want him so bad the ache is pounding in my loins, driving me to foolishness. Whether or not he realizes my sexual attraction is an immaterial thing, he isn’t for me nor can he be.

I break the staring contest to begin to write out initial ideas of what to look for in their business holdings as a sick feeling begins to eat at my stomach. As a Canadian company doing business in America, the legal system is a bit more tangled but recourse is available if they renege or break the contract. This isn’t how things are _supposed_ to be, never how it _should_ be. I find a guy I think I might want to sit on his face for a week and now there is the possibility of a war with his family.

Daring another look as the throb begins to cool off once more, Kili is leaning on his forearms at the rail. He crouches down to toss away the butt into a courtesy can at the bottom. His brother is working on his second cigarette as Balin is making a quiet point on something. The suit jacket tightens down his spine and the cut lines of his muscles are evident in the broad shoulders as he continues to type something on his phone. He could pick me up with thick strong arms and fuck me against a wall without really straining. Wrong train of thoughts as I shake my head, the arousal is kicking back into gear making me flushed.

“Legolas?” He turns to me with a question. “Lets try a different tack. Ask them about their projections for the next two fiscal years. I want to watch their reactions in reference to the EPA guidelines.”

The blond smiles beside me as the meeting convenes once more. I give him my best beaming smile that I reserve for a nice valet or concierge. Out of the corner of my eye, Kili is staring at me with a considering look that makes me what to clamp my legs closed or wrap them around his head. If Legolas verbally digs at them, Thranduil will not be pressed to draw me into the conversation and there will be less blunders on my part. Incompetence from me today would be disastrous, both mentally and professionally. No corporation wants a lawyer with a complete mental brain fart of duh duh huh?

The next three hours are blur of hormonal want. The notes on my pad make no sense nor do the doodles of pointy eared elves. I look at Balin or Thorin, occasionally to Fili with mixed results but never at the one who has captured my body’s attention. He might know, he may not. He took off his suit jacket to roll up his shirt sleeves, revealing a tattoo on his forearm. My body seizes at the sight of the ink on his skin. I can’t see what it is but I know I want to trace it with my tongue. He is seated back in the chair with a rather closed expression from what little I allow myself of him. Immediately, his brother shifts giving me something to fixate.

They are starting to get restless now, not used to being confined for so long. The finger food that has been thrown at them wouldn’t have put a dent in such a manly appetite as they possess. Even Balin who understands the need to for physical discretion is beginning to fray at the edges. Legolas and Thranduil are dragging this meeting out, either to get more concessions or scare the Durins off, I can’t say which. Stall tactics work only if you are trying to frustrate the opponent though it doesn’t seem to be working on the Durins. Taking a quiet look at my watch face, the afternoon has slipped away completely. This was the only meeting of which I had a stake, any others about the supposed sale would be conducted with the real estate division. Looking at Thranduil again, he gives Legolas their secret signal of “wrap it up.”

“Gentleman. Since this meeting has run over longer than we planned, why don’t we wrap up today and have dinner? I know your plane leaves midmorning but we can finish the rest on a video conference if necessary.” Legolas advised with a smile. “You have made the journey here in good faith and we believe that same faith will be there in the continued negotiations.”

Dinner had not been on the agenda that I had received, meaning that I wasn’t invited. It’s fine, really. The last thing I need in my life is to sit through a torturous meal, stewing in a puddle of my own juices over a man that I can’t have. Packing up should have taken no time, particularly when I sent a text off to Alfrid to come up to the meeting room with my briefcase and important messages from today. It is too late to call anyone now with everyone off to happy hour at a bar of their choice. My evening entertainment will be comprised of going over Alfrid’s notes to make sure that they were what I could use or if not, send him on a different track. There would be a glass of wine or two before going to bed with my vibrator and visions of dark brown eyes and dark brown curls dancing in my head.

Alfrid doesn’t say anything when he arrives, handing me what I requested as we step out of the way to the mass exodus from the meeting. My back is to them and while rude, there is nothing for me to say as the group walks passed to use Thranduil’s special elevator that rockets down the side of the building. For all the tech and press releases about the company saving energy, we use a ton in the open glass express lift. Besides, looking at the dark brown hair of male yumminess as he leaves is a serious mistake.

Making sure I have all that I need, Alfrid bows off to head back to his desk to finish transcription on a case that I am placing on the back burner. The Umber case will generate more revenue at the end than a petty dispute with Esgaroth Fishery. Shoving my Surface and tablet into my briefcase, I set out for the elevators only to run into the one person I was trying to avoid.

“Oh sorry.” He murmurs as he reaches out to steady me but I am already too far away. The mild collision has jostled me more than I can bear.

“My fault, entirely.” No point in not taking the blame, it will help me in my escape. “Thranduil and your party will be waiting at the lift at the other end of the hall.”

“Oh.” He had a perplexed look. “I think they have already left. I suppose there were so many that it is easy to miss one.”

A self-deprecating smile that blooms on his face could be disarming to a woman with a softer spine. However, my hormones are churning like a nuclear blender and the smile is working my libido like the Seahawks in overtime. The smart thing to do is send him to the elevator bank, then hide in the restroom for twenty minutes until I am sure he is gone. But that would make me a coward which I would despise. A LOT. He is representing his company and I mine on my home turf, good manners demand I escort him back to his party who are not doubt in the lobby by now, wondering where the hell he is.

My head bobbles on my neck almost like one of those annoying dolls that you see on people’s desks. Words fail me as I indicate for him to precede me which he immediately declines. Gentleman nowadays are a rare thing since the rise of feminism have shoved them to the background. Normally I would be right there doing the shoving with a gold battleaxe but since I am in a skirt today instead of my asexual pantsuit, I let it go. Being magnanimous never hurts in this business, it means someone will owe you a favor later. Plus, I don’t think I could handle walking behind him and not jump on that muscular back to wrap my legs around that solid waist. Humping and wriggling like an undersexed bunny rabbit will not help my image with the workers prairie dogging over the top of their cubes.

“Yep. My brother is trying to figure out how I missed the elevator. I am trying to figure out they forgot me!” He was grinning widely as we reached the lift corridor with the ones who are going down. My smile feels stretched as my loins are still marinating at the sight of him.

The amount of people that should be packed into a standard elevator is hypothetical. Supposedly there is a weight limit that is rated but at our building it tends to get ignored. When we arrived, there were a few handfuls waiting. I might be senior staff with an important guest so I could in theory jump ahead. The drones waiting in line will only take so much and stirring them up with cause headaches down the road. My printer won’t get fixed in a timely manner, suspicious pellets on my desk. Thranduil’s father, Oropher wasn’t one for a class separation here, that had started with the son.

Once the mirrored doors open to the left, Kili takes the far left corner putting his back into it. Obliging him, I take a position to one side until the occupancy moves me to the fore with him at my back. Whatever cologne he wore this morning has faded, leaving traces of nicotine and sea salt odor that could be sweat. In most circumstances, I would face him in order to chat more freely but in my current state, it would be unwise. The idea of face planting him into my minuscule cleavage gains momentum as does the thought of him fucking me up against the side wall for the whole car to see. The vivid imagery makes me hyperaware – of him, of my tormented body, the light hiss of the doors closing to trap me in this frustrated hell.

My brain is so fixated on the fantasy of him and I when the lady to one side stumbles to lean on me, I stumble too. It is only Kili’s quick response of a hand on my right hip that keeps me from hitting the wall. The smile I toss over my shoulder at him might have been a little too long because he doesn’t let go of me. His hand stays on my hip, the heat of the palm radiating past layers of clothes to my skin. It is my outside hip, closest to the wall so the other occupants do not see it. On other days, I might have slammed the offender’s hand into said wall or put an elbow into his throat for his daring. But not this man, this man sets fire to my blood.

Were I looking at him right now, I know there would be questions flying across his face. Was this too long? Should I let her go? Am I going to get a knee in the family jewels? Instead, my hips do something completely unbidden, like they are tired of waiting on the brain to give the go-ahead. My right hip rolls up into his hand, like cat waiting to be stroked. My breath catches for a second but I cover it with a cough. A few people stare at me like I might be germy but I mouth the words ‘dry’ as a few back away. They smile and nod in understanding as the lift beginnings its long descent to the lobby.

His fingers are thick but seemingly short as they tighten and release lightly on my skirt in question. My face flames with white hot embarrassment as my hip rolls once more in permission. Its wicked and I am wicked to instigate this, but for the next few minutes, I can’t be moved to care. His hand slides slowly to my hipbone, sweeping across the pointy knob with his thumb. It would feel so much better if he would rub that rough surface over the saturated flesh of my cunt. The sensations were spiraling up my back in a tingle that became a quiver to almost push a whimper past my teeth.

Then its over.

His hand glides down my hip as if to say good bye, making me tremble at the loss. The decadence of forbidden touch is electrically stimulating and I want his hands on me again. Staying in place is essential as the elevator stops at a floor to let some on and others off. Neither of us move as more pack inside, forcing me back into him. A gentle brush on my thigh is the only indication that his hands are back until he finds the slit in my skirt.

Those questing fingers stop much to my frustration. It was shock, I soon realize as his course skin touches mine at last. He wasn’t expecting to feel me so soon. There is only about two inches of exposure from the edge of the elastic lace of my thigh hose to the top of the opening in the material of the skirt. He uses it to his full advantage. The scrap of a rough nail heightens my arousal instead of extinguishing it. He is so far from whatever man I could possibly be attracted too, it is surreal. Maybe that is why I want him so badly.

I bite down on the inside of my lip as fingers pluck at the lace at the top of my hose. Those delicious digits are moving in circles across my bare skin before dipping down to the sheer fabric encasing my legs. Its wonderous in a way that should be dirty if I wasn’t so turned on by it. The intern in front of doesn’t care that I am seconds away from being lewd, his eyes haven’t left his phone. Kili stands behind me, more circumspect than I assumed, his hand never attracts attention under my skirt. The material never flips up or moves in a suspicious way, it’s a slow seduction of his touch on my body. Its desperately wild and deviant as I cross my arms to hide my hard nipples. Thranduil would fire me for this but god I want more.

Rotating my hip up and to the back to give him a message, he snickers quietly against the wisps of hair on the nape. I can’t help it, I’m so keyed up that I shake and quiver. Its all I can do not to take his hand and ram it between my legs. My tongue is rubbing hard at the roof of my mouth with ideas of licking the head of his cock in the same way. Rough and urgently.

His hand steals away as the migration out of the car to the lobby begins. I have been so lost in fantasy sex land that seeing the ground floor is a surprise. Striding out of the lift with more confidence than I feel, I spot the Durin Group by the front doors. Kili walks beside me quietly, hands to himself. _Damnit_.

“How could you forget me?” He asks his uncle with a joking smile as he throws his arms out. “If not for the lawyer, I would have been flailing around upstairs with no food for days before someone took pity on me.”

Thorin huffs at him but gestures to me in thanks. Thranduil and Legolas have identical smirks at the ‘Lawyer’ comment but it slides right past me as I take a step back. They are leaving and I am not going. There is no other reason for me to keep standing beside them without looking like I am trying to wrangle a dinner invite which gives the impression that I am needy. I _am_ needy but just not for that.

As I turn away, one of the lobby staff walks up to me with a large bouquet of long stem roses, maybe a dozen wrapped in green and white tissue. The petals take my breath away as I grin like a loon, white roses with scarlet tips like they had been dipped in red ink to bleed into the white throats. Juggling my briefcase, I hold the roses like a baby, laying them in the crook of my arm as I take the card.

_You know you want to have drinks with me._

_Kili Durin 555-0221_

 

I look up to meet his eyes outside the building as the Durins pile into a limo. Kili waves his cell at me with a smirk reminding me of when they had been outside and he on his phone. He must have ordered the roses then.

Drinks aren’t all I want with him, no sense trying to play hard to get!


	2. He Said...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Characters depicted are OOC.. I think I was channeling Dwalin in the beginning but it was too much fun to stop!

Mornings are for other people. The happy happy joy joy type that can hop out of bed like a rabbit on crack to zoom around the room with a single minded purpose. Unfortunately, mornings are my Kryptonite, especially this morning. Staring at the mirror while pissing away my morning wood,(ha! There is something good to be gotten out of mornings) I can almost hate my family for putting me into this hotel room in this liberal city of godless infidels. Seattle sucks like a hooker with the peeing shits and smells just as bad.

I’m not subtle, it isn’t who I am. There had been too many alpha males in my formative years that made me give up on the idea of playing nice. Second place is nice, right behind the brain dead cumquat with bad acne. Balin tried, believe me he did. But when his brother, Dwalin, strides in a room with tats on his bare skull and shitkickers like he owns this corner of the universe, you toss out the neck ties and loafers. My brother kept his striped jokers so he could have something to tie up his women. _Freakazoid_.

The shower is a jaunty surprise, so is the directional head. Hot water smacks me into awareness faster than the coffee and nicotine I crave. It still isn’t happy awareness but at least I am on the road to being verbal which may or may not be a good thing. The years served at the Honorary Sauder Business School might have felt like a prison term but that piece of paper opened a lot more doors than a criminal record would. The upside of said four year jolt bolstered my flagging vocabulary to articulate what I want in more than a grunting turn of phrase. My last piece of ass complained that I was Cro-Magnon for eighteen hours a day, saving the other six for business hours. There is the possibility she is right but honestly, I never felt the need to talk to her outside of fucking.

Taking the suit out of the closet, I smoothed down the broadcloth with appreciation before pairing it with a crisp white shirt. The term clotheshorse doesn’t apply to me but I like the tailored look. Uncle had us kitted out in new clothes by Dori before we left town. It was a grand gesture because with our less than towering statures, we aren’t rocking poly blends nor buying off the rack. Dori is an old friend with more than a few tricks up his short sleeves. It had been his idea to ship the suits to the hotel so they wouldn’t be too rumpled. The added advantage was no additional baggage fees or the possibility of lost luggage. Way cheaper than baggage fees.

Staring at the in room coffee maker, it’s shocking that it isn’t loaded with Starbucks. In the Mermaid’s hometown, you would have thought there would be one on every corner but sadly the roasted invader hasn’t infiltrated the rooms of the four star hotels. The lobby maybe. Caffeine will need to be consumed before I make an appearance at the pre business breakfast in the next hour. Whether now or during doesn’t matter, it is one of the few legal drugs the citizens are allowed to abuse with no thought of recrimination. Unless you try to snort or smoke the shit which is just sad. Giving the spray dried cheap stuff a pass, I get started on playing dress up.

The silver cufflinks on my pressed white button down had been a gift from my hippy mom who loves everything Celtic. The rune embossed surface had caught her eye at convention somewhere I can’t remember but I got them as a birthday gift this year. Her Beltaine baby as she calls me, or the black haired bastard if I piss her off. Fili has his own set of nicknames but they change the longer the two of them are in the same room. My mom is ideal until you starting discussing her sex life and who your father could be. Using her surname of Durin had been a less humiliating option than the endless rounds of paternity tests might have been.

The dark blue suit looks good on me, I have to admit. Thorin will be in a chic navy while my brother will be squeezing into a deep brown. The blue is cross between royal and navy but it makes my hair look darker along with the scruffy beard at my jaw. Staring at the ugly shoes on my feet that Dori swore would up my fashion capital among the Brooks Brothers set, it strikes me that I have been pressed and dressed to give every impression that I am civilized. The sheer intellection would be ripped apart in a minute if they could see how we live up in the wild north.

We meet up in Balin’s room for one last chat before the long walk to breakfast. Fili keeps trying to do something with my hair until Thorin tells him off. The banana gets me started since there is another thirty minutes before trying to munch brunch with the Lasgalens and company. I stare out the window at the flapping birds instead of the guys in the room but they aren’t saying anything new at this point. There had been briefings before we ever left home for this liberal corner of America. Thorin wanted another run through to make sure everyone was on board. Seriously, I already sick of this meeting and it hadn’t started yet.

Dossiers on each Greenwood player with every conceivable strap of information that could be found, be it rumor or truth had been compiled. Stuff like Thranduil Lasgalen had a thing for hookers, but not escorts or working models. Oh no, Mr. Corporate America liked the ten dollar handjob types behind a local Starbucks. His boy, Legolas was greedy, wanting both sides of the sexual fence. Sometimes at the same time, like he owned stock in KY and was giving out samples. Daleton was the odd duck though, I mean, he was straight up clean. While the others had enough skeletons in their closets to fill up an impressive cemetery, Bard was squeaky living through and though. It must make for interesting guys night out.

But it was the lawyer that got everyone riled. Balin was shitting when he started talking about her, actually broke out in a sweat after he made a few calls to some old friends. It was an odd thing to watch because he never does, not much rattles Balin at all. He had been around a long time, knew every trick there was and could invent new ones on the fly. He was completely unafraid of the men because Balin could wield the law like a hammer to break his opponent in two. But the woman had him eating antacids like popcorn.

Fili had been his usual serious self, saying that if he could get between Ms. Tauriel Woods’ legs she would forget all about going to court. Uncle Thorin had started throwing every sharpened pencil he could get his hands at the doofus for the comment. Like me, Fili has been educated past the limits of his ambition. However, it doesn’t stop him from thinking like a ten year old who just found out what his winkie can do. Snatching the papers as the two big bulls in the room bellowed at each other, I got a load of her resume. A lot of the fear made sense after the reading. Balin didn’t have the chops to fight her in court, I knew it and so did he. Uncle Thorin was still thinking that the old man would live forever along with the Easter Bunny.

Stanford Law but could have gone Ivy League. Hell, Tauriel passed the bar on the first try in the top three percentile. No losses on her record. None. Win after Win after Win. Even baby lawyers make mistakes and loose in the beginning. It is expected, damn near required. But not her. Viciously driven and coldly methodical, her cases were taught as examples of Courtroom Warfare or How To Make The Opposing Counsel Your Bitch. Those that respected her and wanted sex at some point called her ‘the Machine’, others who had crashed and burned with their balls on the sacrificial alter call her ‘the Beast’. Tauriel Woods has an animalistic attention span to go in for the kill and tear into her prey.

Her personal life was comprised of three short paragraphs. Parents dead when she was a teen, Thranduil picked up the tab for college. No wild spring breaks, crazy exs, or brushes with the law. In fact there was really nothing in the sexual department, nothing steady whether male or female. No unplanned pregnancies or abortions. There had been speculation if she was closet fucking the board members but Balin said he didn’t think so. Feelings would get hurt at some point between a boss and an employee, particularly since he had obviously known her before her parents died. It was hero worship that pushed Ms. Woods into the legal trenches every time, not sex or misplaced love.

We make it to the restaurant with time to spare, Thorin has a thing about time. It wouldn’t have made a damn really, because the breakfast is a hilarious disaster. Thranduil and his two backup singers are going on and on about the environment and who will take care of it. Remember now, this sermon is being preached to miners, every day folk who get their hands dirty for a living. The Eldest keeps bragging on some award they received from the EPA while Fili lights up cigarette after cigarette just to annoy them. Unfortunately, being in my brother’s vicinity of late has allowed the habit to grab me once more after five years of being free of that monkey on my back. Not chain smoking like the blond idiot, I limit myself to one after meals and sex. Two, if she really rocked my world.

The father and son dance around each subject in a beautifully choreographed hoedown of mixed signals and non sequiturs. Daleton is their cleaner, mopping up each inglorious statement with a joke or an off the wall question. His bleached capped teeth are practically gleaming this morning, like he snatched a whitener tray out just before we arrived. The poor guy better be getting the golden parachute with this job because at some point Daleton will be taking the blame for some high level’s fubar.

Fili is having more fun with Daleton than he should, pulling out the stops to make the Mr. Straight Lace stumble. My brother isn’t a sexual tyrannosaurus but he likes women, enjoys making sure they have fun too. He takes a personal interest in telling Bard about our flight down to the home of the Seahawks. My brother busily spent the time helping a sweet young thing join the Mile High Club in the lavatory before moving on to the flight attendants at the front of the plane. Daleton looks uncomfortable with the subject but it earns a hearty chuckle from Lasgasshole Senior. He is so old and corrupt, Thranduil probably remembers the good ol’ days when condoms were optional. Balin and I had discussed strategy during the flight while Uncle T dozed beside us. Neither of those tidbits are given, the less said about us the better.

These people we are dining with do not have friends, they acquire allies. The ones who serve and the ones who get left behind once the job is done. The hallmark of their ideology are the graveyards of fallen companies in their wake as they greedily devour the next. Virus’ and keystone species have that same rationale, like the world is their moveable feast. With any virus or animal, there are strengths and weaknesses. We are learning their weakness but we know the biggest predator in their arsenal is Tauriel Woods who was strangely absent from the morning meal.

Thorin had insisted on his own ride, there was no way he was sharing more time than he needed with the Lasgalens or their associates. It was understandable, these were not our people. Don’t kid yourself, we Durins can pick a fight and back up our smack talk with avid happiness. But being in close quarters with people who try to shit in your sandbox then want to shake hands afterwards is not a good idea. That kind of maneuvering isn’t in the Durin mentality of Business Ethics. We blow shit up for a living, most of the time with a smile.

Thorin was sure that we would need this parcel in the next five years for mining, else we would have stayed In Drumheller. That thought alone keeps us calm in the back of the stretched hearse as it wiggles in and out of traffic. The coal fields are a thing of the past but copper is still selling high, giving us a new cash cow. Thanks to all the lovely gadgets we can’t live without, this cow could be milked for quite a few years. Greenwood Company wouldn’t mine the property themselves without getting the number one slot on an eco terrorist’s watch list. Those green peace lover bastards play for keeps, having no problem flinging poop bombs at high priced CEOs like the over educated zealots that they are. Romancing the property out from under the Lasgalens would take more than a meeting, but going to them on their home turf showed good faith.

We arrive at the Greenwood Building in curiously fast time. The towering structure is a marvelous study in architecture, bar none. Glass and chrome glitter in the morning sun with just enough of the filtered lighting for the botany explosion in their lobby. I couldn’t get past the feeling that there was an alien pod in all that color requiring human blood at least once a week. It would explain the bleached out anemic look the employees are sporting.

Walking past the murky jungle, my brother started to toss his cigarette into the reflecting pool but earned a kidney punch from Balin as punishment. Too many people see his attempt and were at this moment turning up their noses at us. Ori would have been a better choice to come this meeting than my brother but Thorin wanted someone to keep them off balance. Fili Durin excelled at the ridiculous and his good looks ensure that he got away with it.

Seeing all the condescending butt rubbers, made me happy that my suit fit well. Nevermind that it wasn’t Brooks brothers or Saville Row, I like my jeans and boots at any rate. This gigolo hair style that Fili whipped me into this morning gives the impression I should have a price tag stuck through my ear like a side of beef at a cattle auction. Fili, well lets just say my brother does the gigolo act a lot better than me. He’s the type that will get shot when he’s eighty by a young husband for humping the guy’s teen bride. Fili is very over confident in his immaturity, right along side our cousin Gimli.

The Lasgalens are still talking way up ahead as I trail behind them, taking in the people and the lobby. There is a line of office staff waiting for the elevator with a mien of the drudgedly depressed. People watching is a fun past time, it can tell a lot about a company if the employees are happy or morose. Considering the looks on some of their faces, a security guard with a wand should be their next step in security. One day there will be a drone gone postal or a sect with insider intel, blowing up their glass penis building on the evening news.

Legolas, the heir apparent, is busy typing on his phone as we make our way in a circuit to the back past the grovelings. We are getting the guided tour as Daleton and Lasgalen Senior point out fun and redundant facts about the plants and overall construction of the atrium. They were basically telling us with all that hook and jive is that they spend a fortune on plants, imagine what they would spend if we cross them.

The express glass box on the side of the building is a lovely way to travel if you have the money to spare. The libertines know how to get around and do it quick because I swear it feels like I have been shot out of a cannon. Balin makes a comment about giants walking the earth, spitting a smile in Lasgalen's face. Senior needs a reminder that there are greater things than Greenwood LLC but he isnt one of that illustrious race.  A barnacle on a giant's ass maybe.

The lift roomier than it looks because Legolas isn’t standing as close to my brother as he would like. More likely, my brother has succeeded in getting away. The glass and steel fly past us as we rocket skyward like an arrow shot at the sun. Thranduil’s play toy only stops at certain floors and the ride ends on the eighteenth floor. As we exit the lift, you would have thought cherubs would be waiting to shower us with confetti. Junior is pointing out different cubes and its occupants like he knows who they are, judging but the slight wince that Bard shot him, Legolas doesn’t come to this floor often or know jack about any of his people. Typical moneyed approach of the disengaged.

Daleton escorts Thorin and Balin in the room since they are the principles that needed to be courted and appeased. Fili and I are their also rans, no visible threat at the present time. My brother does his normal strut for the audience almost shaking his ass in invitation. If someone had asked him to crack walnuts with those cheeks, I couldn’t have been more surprised.

Legolas blinds me with a charming smile as he pointed out some feature of the audio visual set up behind me. He obviously had no idea how it was wired into the wall, limp wristedly pointing to touchscreen in front with its own slot for the remote. It was expensively over the top for such a small conference room, proving once again they had more money than sense. Whether the slap was intentional, no one can say but we at Durin Mining do not rate the ballroom upstairs for this inconsequential meeting of less than twenty million.

Introductions begin so we can correctly address our adversary. Thorin is going to pony up some more money when we get back thanks to this bullshit. Small spaces do not bother me but the longer I stand in place the more it feels as the walls are starting to shrink. Tauriel Woods is introduced with Balin making a few opening remarks but I don’t hear her reply if there was any. Probably a hatchet faced chica with more of a beard than me. Thickly muscled calves like a Clydesdale and child bearing hips, Ms. Woods would have to use a sperm bank if she wants to pass on all that stunning intelligence. My smile and teeth keep my mental snort locked in but only just.

My name gets called, my first name like me and Daleton are old friends or drinking buddies. He motions me forward so the audience can get their fill like a game show host that almost makes me snicker. My shorter height hid me from the room and its occupants, something that pushes other, lesser men to overcompensate. Staring at the left, I let my gaze sweep the room, pausing at each to get a feel for what we are up against.

The black haired female at the end of the table can’t stop staring at my brother. Her short dark hair and white suit makes her look like a Ricardo Monteban stand-in on Fantasy Island. The idea of my brother being her Tattoo due to his height makes me grin. Her smile is too open and friendly genuine, not the right feel for what I expected of the Lasgalen killer Mako. If I am remembering the order of intros right, her name was Ida something. Idril, the environmental specialist, now I remember her.

Turgon something something is a nasally bastard that was two steps from getting pushed out of the last company he worked before it was acquired by Greenwood. His resume had been impressive with all the right fancy stuff but he had let ego get in the way too many times and piss off too many people who write his checks. He had a reputation as a go getter but not the right attitude to mingle with money. Turgon had lost his wife in a boating accident hosted by Gondolin investors, it seemed to have soured his perception of life afterwards.

Looking past the disagreeable fucker to the female beside him, my breath catches in my throat as my cock explodes in my pants with an instant erection. It is her that yanks my attention like a choke chain wrapped around my neck. I nod my head to the woman like a grinning ape with special needs. Nothing traipses past my lips, no greetings or salutations because my balls are bound up tight with the need to cum in my shorts. Afraid of the possible eunuch sounds that could come from my mouth, I just watch her nod once in acknowledgment.

Poets talk of a red head like she is wearing an autumn sunrise or a fire moon upon her head. Those descriptions might be accurate for lesser women but not her, never her. The tight twist of scarlet is a corona, burning white hot upon the landscape of my skin, setting my blood to boil and my skin tighten with anticipation. There is nothing in the room but her, nothing in this wide world that could ever surpass how aroused I am by _her_. She is the sun and the moon both at once, an eclipse of magnetic proportions.

_Tauriel Woods_.

The Beast that has been giving Balin nightmares has my cock harder than stone. I want her more than my next breath, my next cigarette. This type of primal response only happens in movies, never to me. Women are like blowup dolls, moving, talking with only a few areas of interest though nothing I want to keep around or show off to family. This woman has engaged every point on my compass especially the stuff in my southern hemisphere. Ms. Woods might scare the shit out of my family but I have no problem boldly going where no Durin has gone before.

She’s tall, taller than me but then most women are. If I was standing in front of her, those deeeeelicious nipples would be at mouth level for my special tongue bath. Perfect. The green suit is refreshingly feminine where most women try to hide their sex under layers of sterile conformity, like the dark haired lady at the end of the table making eyes at my brother. Ms. Woods is broadcasting her curves at the room, forcing the men to see her as a woman while she steps on their throat with a spiked heel. She is a complete package and I would give my left nut for the opportunity to sniff her panties. Then discreetly jerk off in a corner.

We take a seat to get this farce started. That is what this meeting is, a complete farce. Ms. Woods or mistress as I would call her if given a chance, stretches her hip a little before taking a seat. She leads with the right hip, a light shimmy as if to shake out a wedgie. Fantasies of her running that right leg around my waist as I fuck her slowly begin to tease my brain and my cock. Reaching down to adjust said cock under the guise of unbuttoning my coat, I could almost imagine her on her knees between my legs. The red hair bound up as it was now while she sucked the life right out of me.

She is aloof, barely acknowledging the room or its occupants. The word never had any particular meaning, it wasn’t something that I used on the day to day. If a woman was distant, she wanted none of me. Games are for children and the headaches that go along with them just piss me off. But her distance is intriguing, or at least I find it so. Like a beautiful puzzle that only makes sense when the last piece is pressed in.

It is the clothes and bound up hair, like a suit of armor that she wears as she marched forth into battle to make war with affidavits and subpoenas. Her briefs that I read are as keen as a knife’s edge, slicing her opposition at the jugular so that their case bleeds away its life to a slow death. Ambition has repressed her to think critically instead of emotionally. Ms. Woods wasn’t rash, never hasty. She didn’t understand impulsive, not like I did. This spontaneous attraction should have intimidated me down to my ugly shoes but like most men, I sometimes think with the little head south of the border. His ideas are better than mine on certain days.

Fili begins his bullshit almost from the beginning, tossing out innuendos and double entrendres down the table at the two ladies present. After all, that was why Thorin had insisted that he come. The men chortled in that good old fashioned way that reminds me that no matter how many doors that a feminist can kick down there is still a boy’s club in the room. Ms. Silvers blushes quietly with a birdlike twitter that sets my teeth on edge. The cagey Ms. Woods doesn’t bat an eyelash, it’s like she is bored by us and our brash backwoods mindset.

The mark of a true businessman: Sleep tight, rest easy, and come out fighting. Or a boxer, it works both ways. The adrenaline is pumping in my body, flinging me headlong towards disaster. There are two different conversations going on in room and neither are of interest thanks to woman who is hotter than a ghost pepper not four feet away. I listen or try to, more out of curiosity than a need to be educated in business ethics by bottom feeders. The resolution of the property and our plans for it is the official top feeling but the Turagon idiot and the sexually greedy son keep talking about what they did with the last company that crossed them. The Lasgalens are talking out both sides of their mouth. Yes, they would take our dirty money, no we have to adhere to national park rules for pristine land management. Thorin is close to wiping the floor with them, it would be funny if it was a sitcom.

Sneaking another look, the future headliner of my wet dreams is doing a slow circuit of our line. Just staring at us, there is a pinched expression going on that would say concentration if she didn’t seem so tense. I bring up a point about the EPA to test the waters of the Government involvement if they are wanting to throw Department of the Interior at us when Tauriel’s gaze locks on to me. Every hair on my body stands up with my cock as she watches me talk, her eyes following my lips. Fear and excitement crash into me like a runaway train, making me grit my teeth in shivering response. My chest squeezes while my gut locks down as the fight or flight instinct kicks in full bore. Any more adrenaline in my system and I will have a meltdown on a volcanic magnitude.

No woman has ever pushed me so far over the edge, hell I’m miles from the edge. There is a scene from _Silence of the Lambs_ that jumps to mind as I watch her about coveting. How does one begin to covet, why we covet what we see every day. Reaching down to adjust the jumping weasel in my pants again, I know I could very easily covet this woman. The police might call it stalking, I call it a yearning to see if she tastes as good behind the knee as she does at the small of her back. Tauriel Woods, she is more than best chocolate, or the sweetest wine. My world would burn to ash, if we ever made it to the bedroom. The sheets would have scorch marks from the heat of our lust. She is the focus of my desire and the vehicle of my destruction.

Thorin makes an interesting point back to Thranduil as my body fights conflicting wishes for rapturous sex with Ms. Woods/Delilah and staying in the chair. Long dead Vikings who left a stamp on my DNA clamor for me to toss her over a shoulder for she is my prize of battle. Drag her to a hut somewhere (convenient closet) and fuck her until we pass out from dehydration. The images in my head of her laid out on furs wearing nothing but a smile are so vivid, I am half out of my chair before I realize it. My cell is an excuse but a good one to cover up the whys of my side trip to Looneyville. Her trick of watching us seems like a good idea so I try the same.  Staring at the dark haired woman at the end who is winking at my brother, I make a slow circuit to the right until Thranduil lobs a question her way.

That smooth husky voice gives an interestingly vague answer with a peeved glance tossed in for good measure. The dulcet tones are lazy, like she has just woke up from a good fuck. Tauriel has the best phone sex voice, like she could read a dictionary and I would cum on command or just a snap of those long fingers. The sharp look she passes to her boss tickles me for some unknown reason but it draws her attention in my direction once more. It’s piercing, making me glad I am wearing a dark color since my rock hard cock is leaking in my shorts. There will be a stain by the end of the meeting. Small stains are fine, large wet spots are embarrassing.

She stops her visual sweep at Balin and Thorin as they swap notes on a pad between them. Whatever they are saying squelched a frown on her face, like there is something missed by her side of the meeting. Turagon curls his lip at her, making him next on my hit list. If something has crawled up his ass, he needed to shit it out. The fanny pack cocksucker will never look down his nose again at a woman who makes me shake at a mere glance if I can get my hands on him.

A break is called for everyone to stretch their legs. Fili hightails it outside to the balcony, lighting up before the door even closes. Balin shrugs at me as he walked out to find the head, at his age and an enlarged prostate, he goes often. It is how the Lasgalens will wear us down eventually. _Our_ weaknesses. So we will have to blow theirs apart before they can figure out how to exploit us. Looking down the table, Tauriel is gone as well with Senior and Daleton talking in hushed tones by the door.

Thorin and I join my brother who is feeling rather pleased with himself. “See, you were smart to bring me. Those girls love me!”

Thorin snorts at him, while any comment from me will raise suspicion. “I doubt that. Kili is being more proactive than you in these negotiations. They are only getting pissed right now.”

“I say screw them, Uncle. If I hear one more time about their money and lawsuits, I will strangle them with their silk ties.” Its idiotic but I don’t care. The idea of Fili getting a shot at Tauriel peeves me faster than it should.

Balin joins us and he is rattled more than he likes to be. “I don’t understand this. It isn’t going as I thought it might. She wasn’t at the breakfast, barely saying a word the whole meeting. I can’t get a read on her.”

I light a cigarette before pulling out my phone to give my hands something to do while my brain churns. “Could she be out of favor? Something not go right lately?”

“No, it just makes no sense. Two thirds of what they have said has been scripted. It would have had more of a punch if it had come from her. Intimidation from a powerful woman is harder to overlook than a young man. Men come off as arrogant, women promise pain.” Balin puts his hands behind his back to control the nerves but they are there for us to see. Looking over my shoulder at the bane of Balin’s existence, Tauriel is back in the room talking to Legolas.

My timing couldn’t have been better since she looked up right then at us. The conversation chugs along behind me as the concessions are discussed with my devotion squarely on the lady in the room. Everything I feel might evaporate like smoke if I talk to her. She might hate short men thanks to a bad experience or prefer the clean cut degenerates like Legolas Lasgalen who seems hell bent on getting her attention.

The long stare holds me like full metal grip on the balls, leaving me no out. There is no retreat from that look, no advance from those eyes that pin me like a fly to the rail. But she felt hunger, need. I kept seeing it flash every so often in her eyes like a forest fire furiously struggling to get free. It called to me, making me want to yank her out of the chair and have her right there on the table. As long as the onlookers kept to the walls, no one would get hurt. Ms. Woods would be hotter than her hair if I could just bury my face between those thighs to lick every ounce of cream she permitted me.

My feelings are becoming a jumble and it scares me. I’m not sure if what I am seeing is real or what my Id is projecting on an innocent glance. Would she want me? Could she allow me lick her fun spots, maybe? Force is abhorrent to me, I could never force _her._ An offer is as far as I am willing to go, letting Tauriel know that the door is open to her. If she walks through it, I would spent every minute of our time together making sure she didn’t regret it.  

She cuts the invisible lines that the staring has created, leaving me drifting in a sea of sexual frustration. The cravings are getting harder to ignore, amping up my fantasies. The meeting is tanking and I will have an attractive case of blue balls by morning. My cock hasn’t been soft since we strolled into that tiny room, firing off cramps in my abs that cannot be called pleasurable. Damn tree shaggers from hell have done this!

If Gloin had come instead of me, I could be balls deep in something soft and wet instead of standing in the Seattle sun with Cowgirl sexual ideas. I would buy her the hat and boots! Riding crops, spurs and all if that was something she was into!   A harsh cramp at the thought of bright red leather has me almost doubling over, so I put out my cancer stick and lean over the rail for support.

Taking my phone, I search for local florists. There is one just up the street with availability for same day delivery. Typing in what I want and what the card should say takes minutes, checking out with my paypal account takes less. The smile on my face is probably a smirk of satisfaction but I am ambivalent. We go back into the room as a team for the next hellish round of Who Wants to Punch the Millionaire.

Time drags by as nothing is getting accomplished. I shed my coat and roll up my sleeves to find the inner peace bullshit that really isn’t going to happen today. Balin and Thorin are both frustrated now since nothing is getting worked out but our patience. The food bar at the end has been set up but nothing stirs my appetite save my fantasy girl with the thousand yard stare. An odd thought occurs to me as my semi gives a twitch when she lets out a loud sigh. If I have her, is that a win until Uncle T finds out? If she says no, will I curl up in a ball from the rejection? Any which way this goes is a loser for me which has God’s fingerprints all over it. If He wants to curse you, He answers your prayers.

My traitorous Id kicks my concerns to the side better than Beckham ever could. It jumps back into into the driver’s seat of my mental faculties like its gearing up for the Indy 500. If the part of my brain that controls desire had an anthem, something that could describe it in a song title, _Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap_ comes to mind with _Feel This Moment_ by Pit Bull as a followup. There is a rousing cry of PUSSY! GLORIOUS PUSSY! echoing in my ears along with the wild pulse beat of my blood.

My amorous conundrum aside, the meeting has reached a stalemate when the Lasasshole junior calls for the cease fire. It isn’t a white flag, there is no surrender from them so it was a wasted trip for us. Nothing has been decided. Thorin is ready to start throwing things while Balin tries to cover for some thoughtless remarks on our side, thanks to Fili the Horny and Thorin the Pissed. Everyone is getting frazzled and the split ended nerves are showing.

The packing up takes minutes for me because I don’t waste paper. The mistress of my desire left the room while my head is down so there isn’t any last looks on that front. My brother is doing the slow roll down the line to get a shot at the environmental lady before we leave. She is taking longer than needed to wind up a computer charger so he probably has a chance at that later. There are dinner plans with the Lasgalens and Daleton at some fancy shancy place that serves finger food like it’s a meal. Uncle T and Balin already know I won’t be joining them, I need some peace and quiet to go along with my beer.

Outside, the Amazon of my dreamscape is talking to a venal bastard away from the aisle in an empty cube. The guy has to be a flunky but he wears the look of a closet rapist, servile and suck ass. The greasy mouth breather is hovering, invading her space all the while sneaking looks at her tits. Part of me wants to cut parts of him into crocodile pieces just for breathing her air. She doesn’t seem to like his closeness anymore than I because the convo is over and she sends him on his way.              

Taking a chance can be its own reward. Everyone from the meeting has rounded the end of the walkway, heading for the express box while I salivate over Ms. Woods. Their inattention is my salvation, giving me the opportunity to hang back with the bump and greet. A cheesy attempt but it couldn’t all be the Marquess of Queensbury Rules in the fun game of love and war.                                                                                                        

“Oh sorry.” She gets of balance from the slight bump, it wasn’t her fault my brains had made camp in my pants.

My hands grasp air, just missing an arm before she backs up a step. There might have been pleading noises that escape me but my lips were closed. The lovely Tauriel is out of reach but godsdamnit she is making me drool being so close. Even now, the tingling sensation is itching the head of my cock with an imperative need to make contact with her body. Anywhere on her body, her armpits would work at this point. The idea of titty fucking her almost makes me pass out.

“My fault, entirely.” Her lips say but I can’t get passed those dark green eyes at this range. “Thranduil and your party will be waiting at the lift at the other end of the hall.”

“Oh.” Confusion clocks me a new one because I think I smell lavender. Sweet lavender on her skin. “I think they have already left. I suppose there so many that it is easy to miss one.”

She looks down the hall for a minute in the direction of the lift, giving me a profile of her beautiful face. Wrinkles form between her eyes as thin scarlet brows snap together in confusion. Yes mistress, they have left me. May I sit under your desk and make you scream like a banshee? The mental image of her sitting at her desk on the phone with my mouth sucking the soft skin of her thighs makes my smile brighter, maybe crazed.

Tauriel wordlessly motions me to proceed her once she decides not to leave me stranded. Her backside has been hidden from me all day and I want one last opportunity for a peak at it in action. I indicate with my arm that she should go first because really I want to see that ass move. The thought of wearing it like a hat has my cock doing a tango with my balls. All around us a few of the Dilbert wannabes are being nosy over the rim of their fabric covered jails. Smiling like Ms. Canada, I nod to a few but my attention snaps back with a sigh as this gorgeous female puts about two paces between us. Oh god in heaven, that is ass is perfectly rounded.

My phone jumps in my pocket, reminding me that I did a bad thing. It shows inattention to our adversaries that I could allow myself to be forgotten. Fili is having a wonderful time at my expense and it makes me wish Legolas would grab his ass to give him something to think about besides me being slow.

“Yep. My brother is trying to figure out how I missed the elevator. I am trying to figure out they forgot me!” Flashing my charm at her isn’t the only thing I want to flash but it will have to do. The smile I give her brings out her own, doesn’t matter how shy it seems.

I can’t understand what I have learned from reading Balin’s files, everything just seems all wrong. She isn’t verbal, there is no masculine posturing. Tauriel doesn’t seem receptive to me but it doesn’t feel like a shutout. Her stares say interested so does her body language when she keeps pace with me to the lift entrance yet she doesn’t speak a word. I detest cheap sentiment in the same way I abhor false eyelashes, one day it will ruin my dinner. But anything to let me know her attitude is better than this silence.

We head to the elevator bank at a slow crawl, she isn’t powerwalking to show off her height which is taller than normal in those heels. Such lovely feet too, I bet they would look just as pretty giving me a foot job but only if I get to nibble on the piggies first. There are only minutes left with her, but still time to make an impression. Gods, do I want an impression. There is another line of human cattle about five deep with everyone wearing the same bored look of the long suffering. It’s moving and I notice she doesn’t cut ahead. While there are more than few stares, she remains at my side though not speaking. Part of me is worried that I have overstepped with her, that I need to get laid and not fantasize about women who just aren’t into me.

The doors open with a slight hiss now that we are at the front, I take the far corner. Ms. Woods takes the position beside me but stares at the opposite wall in quiet solitude. The timer on my body was counting down to destruction.  Frustration and nerves eat at me because seriously, I have no idea how to get her attention now. Words fail when my charming self misses the mark, but failure is not an option, not when I have an erection that could double as jackhammer filling up the front of my pants.

More people crowd into the limited space, making me wonder about weight capacity as a fat guy squeezes beside me with rolls of fat on his neck that resemble a pack of hot dogs. When the doors close on this petri dish, I sneak another look at the red head beside me, trying desperately not to beg. This elevator moves like old people fuck which could be annoying in the extreme if I was in a hurry. As she moves in front of me to make more room in the cattle car, I stare idly at her back reviewing where I went wrong with this. It was quite possibly the worst mistake sending those flowers but it will be a funny punch line at some corporate circle jerk in her future.

A tired secretary beside her stumbles, surprising Ms. Woods into a stumble of her own. It is pure reflex instead of thought that has my hand shooting forward to spare that lovely body injury as I grip her side to steady her. The skirt has a satiny feel but it covers the bunching muscles under my hand. So many muscles too, firm and corded like powerful ropes under silky skin. Legs like that could break a man if he’s lucky, crushing his will into sexual servitude. She must have a workout routine to be so firm in all the right places.

The smile she sends me over her shoulder is agonizing beautiful, freezing me in place. I can’t move even if I wanted too, just stare helplessly at the twist of flaming strands before me. Desire, hot and molten is making me dizzy and lightheaded since all of the blood has left the brain for parts unknown. My hand is still on her hip, my right hand, the one that will be jacking my cock as soon as I get back to the hotel room. If worst comes to worst, I will use the bathroom downstairs! The cramps for me to offload my cum are so bad, I positively absolutely have no shame at all if someone hears me!

The Id is taking control again all because I was trying to be a gentleman and save her some pain.

_Female_

_Strong_

_Warm_

_Need_

_Want_

A hurricane of thoughts and feelings have tied up my body as my brain’s computer finally crashes from too much stimuli. Then while the blank space in my head is trying to come back online with rational ideas, the most unexpected thing happens. The hip under my hand rolls up, like she took a step back but her leg never moved. Looking around the box from hell, no one cares about us or that there is a reprobate lusting after a female in their midst.

My hand squeezes her hip involuntarily, I have no control over the digits that trace the contours of what lies beneath the fabric. It’s a grasp/release because I think she is seconds from yelling ‘bad touching’ at the top of her lungs. She covers her mouth to cough that draw a few stares but Tauriel makes no indication to them that she is being fondled against her will. It happens again, that roll up of her body into my hand and I can’t fight the smile that slides across my face.

Belly dancers do that same move, I dated one in college. The idea of her knowing a figure eight switches my primary fantasy from Cowgirl to Harem in the blink of an eye. A Chest Camel motion as she rides me would thrust those sweet nipples in my face, up and back to tease me past the limits of sanity. I want that, I want that memory of her atop me. In the space of five minutes, the situation has gone from frigid to Fuck Yeah! and I couldn’t be happier.

The questing digits inch forward along her skirt but never where they can be seen. When my thumb finds her hip bone and gives it a firm stroke, her body quivers in response. Biting my tongue is the only thing that keeps me grounded, not the full elevator with a hundred eyes and the opinions behind them. I have no problem pushing them out on the next floor whether they like it or not. My mistress might have objected to such an action even if I give her a screaming orgasm afterwards. I wonder if the man in front of her would mind if I fucked her against the wall from behind, I know my cock wouldn’t.

The elevator dings the arrival of yet another floor, forcing me to let go. Its hard to do and my hand wanders down her hip to draw out it out to the last possible moment. To release that supple body that is my heaven as much as my hell shakes me utterly. Fingers and common sense square off in a war of possession as a growl starts to escape the confines of my teeth. The line of her back snaps straight like she hates the loss of contact as much as I do. The crowd in the lift pushes her closer to me as the elevator is now packed to the gills. Where normally I hate the feeling of being so close to others, it affords me the ability to be closer to her with less suspicion.

Slowly as the car moves again, so do I. Tauriel is a breath away now which is both better and worse. Curious fingers find the slit in her skirt on the side, diving into the gap like the treasure seekers that they are. When they register the smooth skin instead of panty hose, you would have thought a choir of angels had started singing in the middle of the Greenwood Building. The shock of first touch makes the rough hands on her softness burn with a sudden greed for more. I had found the path to Nirvana or so the rapturous Id is screaming.

_Skin_

_Silky_

_Thigh Highs_

_Touch_

_Skin_

_Need_

_Lick_

I knew the limits of our vicinity, understood who held my chain. She was in total control of this situation and for once that was ok with me. So fair a victor, how can I help but be conquered. Tauriel is desire incarnate, better than anything I had in my spank bank. Her perfume spiraled around me like a slow moving tornado, sanding down my concentration to that slip of lace and nylon then back to the satin of her skin. Thoughts of my tongue making that same trek up her smooth thighs then to the backs of her knees had blood pounding in my ears harder than my cock.

Her hip rolls back at me once more, making me snicker at her impatience. My fiery huntress demands satisfaction, giving me ideas of pulling up the back of her skirt for a little piano action. Its whatever she wants, whatever that would please her. Her quim would be hot and so very slick. She could take two fingers easy with the thumb held in reserve. Thoughts of plugging her holes from this position like a bowling ball have me white knuckling my briefcase for a sliver of control, not much, just a sliver.

Fading in, fading out of consciousness, my body cannibalizes itself as hunger tears chunks out of my restraint. Paradise lay under my fingertips, inches now instead of yards. The inner caveman is roaring at me to rip open her jacket to puck at her left nipple as I stroke her thighs, that sweet mound. Her moans and cries would echo in the metal expanse as I made her cum over and over again. Once wasn’t enough, could never be again. The briefcase is saving me or otherwise I would have let go to do just that. The people around us have no idea of what is happening in the corner which is good because I am not in a sharing mood. Like any garden variety junkyard dog, its teeth and claws if you get near my mistress.

The fun ride finally calls it quits when the elevator reaches the ground floor. It pisses me off so badly, I want to yank her back inside and hit the emergency button. My cock is unforgivingly hard, making my hide my wood behind my briefcase. Watching her walk outside into the lobby with no more inflection on her face is a painful thing. Only the slight tremor in her leg as she left the car and the wild pulse beat at her neck are signs that she is in anyway affected by what happened between us.

Fili is standing apart from the group, easily recognizable. I have no idea how long they have been waiting, the throbbing erection has cut off my ability to tell time. Balin wears the pursed peevy look that means a lecture and punishment later. It is going to be a long plane ride back to Drumheller.

“How could you forget me?” Trying desperately to get past my euphoria from the Love-in-the-elevator experience, acting the fool isn’t hard. My grin and frustrated routine amuse my Uncle and tug a chuckle from the Lasgalens. “If not for the lawyer, I would have been flailing around upstairs with no food for days before someone took pity on me.”

Uncle Thorin isn’t happy at all and I don’t blame him. The meeting is a waste of our time but the memory of sharing a foot space with Ms. Woods has tickled me down to my toes. Whether she calls or not, only the gods can know but I really hope she does. There is a twinkle in her eye as she takes a step back making me wish to grab her and yank her forward with me. Letting her go is hard, harder than I realized, but its goodbye unless she has an adventurous nature that she has managed to hide from the world. Nothing has been exchanged save some pleasurable indecency and fewer words.

Nodding to her, I follow my family out the door until I see someone walking with the flowers I sent in her direction. My lockstep takes a header as nerves get the better of me, knowing who the delicate stems will be given. The others pile into the car but I stop where I am so that I can see her face when she reads the card. Its overwhelming how much badly I want to see her expression. Dread pours cold water on the heat of my strumming arousal, dosing the flames completely. Fear trickles down my spine as she slowly, agonizingly slowly opens the card.

“Any fucking time, sweetheart!” Thorin snarls from the dark interior, ready to catch a breather from the people at the sidewalk.  

The slight tug of her lips into a half smile makes me what to shout it from the tops of the Lasgalen Penis Building! I have made her smile, my mistress is pleased! Tauriel leans forward to sniff at the blooms, her eyes never leaving me as I waive my phone at her with a delighted grin. Fili is growling for me to hurry up as the Lasgalens walk back to their fortress of money but my jumbled brain can’t let go of her pleased demeanor. The surprised happiness was better than any present I could have ever received.

Taking a seat in the back of the limo crashes me back to the present if only for a few minutes. Thorin is full bitch mode while Balin is making notes on a separate legal pad. There isn’t any need to expend the effort since the Greenwood LLC has no intention of selling at the price we can afford or without stipulations that will break us. No, right now her smile is still on my mind as I lay my head back on the seat. When my cell goes off in my pocket, I almost jump out the window with surprise, bringing Thorin’s attention back to me once more. With every effort to be nonchalant, I keep my eyes on Uncle T who is ballistic thanks to my disappearing act but all the while my heart is hammering in my ears as I pull up the new message.

_Text Message from: 206-555-8069_

Pan Pacific Lobby Bar 7 pm SHARP

 

Oh, the fun is just getting started…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya everyone! There is one more chapter to go and it is about halfway done but don’t look for it any time soon…I really fell in love with the first chapter so going back for second’s and thirds wasn’t hard at all!


	3. The Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And make  
> Your final move  
> Mmm, don't be scared  
> She wants you to  
> It's hard  
> You must be brave  
> Don't let this moment slip the way
> 
> ~ Weird Sisters - Magic Works ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story changes from one POV to the other and each are marked...

_Tauriel_

The hotel is a pretty one, classy yet modern. The Pan Pacific is small enough to be considered a boutique, with the right ambiance and special attention to its guests. Many of the old hotels are downtown near the marina for the better scenery, a layover from the years whalers needed a bed and a broad after long months at sea. Some have their own brand of charm, others hire pop decorators who have been on some reality TV show thinking they are getting the new and cool. What they get is scary and irritating. With free WiFi.

The bar is discreet, upstairs on a mezzanine for nice views but no sloppy drunks to harass the patrons trying to get a room. I take a seat to order some wine while I wait, anticipation makes me want to check the time but I don’t. Anticipation can be fun yet overeager is just bad manners. The Durins had gone with class instead of ritz which put them higher up my proverbial ladder. The clientele seated around me at the bar didn’t feel like conventioneers looking for a hookup while their wife in Wichita wonders why they don’t call. No Hawaiian prints or pink plaid golf clothes, Seattle isn’t Vegas. Just a few couples and singles in business attire shedding their woes at the end of the day with a drink.

Only two had been brave enough so far to hit on me, sending over extra glasses of Pinot Gris via a smiling bartender. It does my ego good and justifies the two hours I spent trying to get ready then get here fifteen minutes before time. The black Halston halter fits well and looks better with my hair up in a braided twist. But since Mr. Durin has seen me with my hair up all day, I thought to have it curled into a low knot so that the tail of it lies on my shoulder. The new hairdryer was a CVS buy but it didn’t matter because it is a necessary tool.

Of the two who had sent me drinks only one dares to advance. A big shouldered man in relaxed khaki that oozed arrogance from every pore rather like rancid garlic, the smile I give is polite but firmly uninterested. Kili has not competition from this guy, only Chris Helmsworth in his Thor costume is the runner up in my fantasy land. Bolg something or other takes the rejection well when I tell him I am meeting someone, still trying to give me a business card. Now the arrogance is just annoying, but I take the card to lay in on the polished wood beneath my palm. The ignorant shit finally gets the message and scuttles off.

A warm breath, toothpaste minty floats around me as a voice murmurs. “Not into the tall and touristy type tonight?”

I turn around in my seat to see him standing behind me but a few inches down. The bar stools are designed for a woman to be eye level with a man but if the man is less than standard on the height scale, the lady is at a disadvantage. Kili has changed his clothes as I have but the black suit with a white shirt under makes him look scrumptiously edible. No tie, neck open at the tanned throat. Staring at the pulse beat in his neck is rude, but Emily Post can kiss my ass. She probably never understood the uncivilized urge to suck on male skin, especially his.

“I don’t mind an out-of-towner.” My voice is husky as I watch his eyes close and the pulse begin to jump a little faster. Could I really have such an effect on him? “The roses are gorgeous.” They are really gorgeous sitting in a crystal vase in my apartment.

His hair has lost the gelled American Hustle from earlier, now sporting the finger combed look. It does nothing to beat off my attraction heating my lower extremities, if anything the alcohol and being so near to him is making it harder to concentrate. It’s the smile too, a dimple makes an appearance in his right cheek as he motions to the bartender for a beer.

“How could I not send them? Every beautiful woman deserves roses.” His voice is at the same register as mine, husky though it turned sinful at the end. If he sounds half as good in bed, I would cum harder than ever in my lifetime or the next.

“Maybe. But it was a surprise considering how things were left today.” The look I give him is pointed and he knows it by the grimace he gives in turn. I want this out of the way before it goes to the naked stage.

“I haven’t thought about work since I left Greenwood building this afternoon.” He shots me a self deprecating smile before adding. “Why don’t you leave your work thoughts there too?”

He reads me, understands me, much better than most men have. My motives weren’t pure but my thoughts today haven’t been either. The smile I flash him is relieved and I salute his quip with my drink. Men look at my body and get happy, I have seen it in the past. The guys at the gym are subtle and others are not. It is the rare man who looks deeper than the skin or at least sees a woman as more than a rack and a convenient wet place.

It hit me later while the nails were drying and the mass of red was piled high in curlers that it could be a setup, that the roses were an in to my good graces. The humid jungle between my legs chilled colder than the Artic almost immediately at the thought. It would be professional suicide if I helped him like that, not to mention the blowback to my conscience. There was no way to know unless the first step is taken if it is for real or him smoothing the way for the deal by scratching my itch. But I want to leave the business at work, I want to know he wants me and not what I can do for his uncle. Caution is a practical emotion but damnit I am tired of being cautious each and every day.

The conversation starts again with a new topic and a new direction. Questions and answers flow as we learn about the other with only a minimal of sexual innuendo in the beginning. Its fine really, I am generally curious of him. The body is the stuff of my fantasies but his thoughts, oh.. they turn me on like a light bulb.

He eyes me speculatively as he takes a swallow of his beer. “What are you thinking right now? The look on your face says so much!”

I know what he sees, I know what I project. A black dress flaring down to my knees, heels that push my tits into the stratosphere. It tightens down my waist to show my figure is firm and that I work to keep that way. The right amount of makeup to accent not frighten or give the impression I am a clown school escapee. These are tools to get his attention and each one screams available and needing. So do you tell him that you want to take a look down his trousers to see what pops up and says hello? Or play the game a little longer instead?

“I am thinking. Well…” The pause brings up his eyebrows as if he could lead the words out of me by his look of surprise. “I am thinking the view from your room would be better than the bar. Plus, room service is available until eleven according to their website.”

He must not have had any clue I would be so easily maneuvered or that I could be so blunt with what I want. It shocked me too in retrospect. The smile he flashes me is everything I had hoped to see. There isn’t any point on waiting, he _is_ what I want. The courtship dance is charming and in another time, I would be all over it. But tonight I just want him, or whatever he can give me. So far the peek inside his mind, at his opinions, have found them to be closer in line with mine on many topics, helping us subject jump like kids with a jump rope.

Kili calls to the bartender, handing him his credit card without breaking eye contact. Those brown eyes are smiling eyes that mirror the grin on his lips. He pays for my drink as well, or the bartender is better than I assumed at first glance. He quickly swirls his signature on the slip as he slides from the stool. He offers his hand to help me down but instead of bracing his arm to counter my weight as I shift, he rubs my fingers as he stares into my eyes. Its an eerie feeling to be so regarded by another and I am not sure what do with it.

This isn’t something I practice, one night stands work for other people with an ease I never understood. However, since he walked into the boardroom today, this was all I could think about, being with him, having him and fucking the living daylights out of him. Kili is heating me like a furnace, and I want, so so much beyond my comprehension. The nipples I had restrained in demicups ached for those rough hands that landed on me earlier.  My lips are parted as I exhale my want, not caring who sees us. He gets the idea in a hurry and it makes me thankful that my body is lusting after a man with a brain.

The walk to the elevator feels more like a glide, like I’m on ice skates and the marble floor is Rockefeller center. His hand is at my lower spine, just there, a presence and reminder but not in control. He doesn’t steer me, but the warm touch rasps on my clothes, making me desperate to feel it on the needful parts that are hidden from view. I’ve been good, patient and receptive. However the thong, the last stab at dignity, is approaching the soaking stage with each step.

Had any part of the last hour given me the feeling of ickyness, I could have cut the line and let my catch flounder on his own. Having strong ideas is its own empowerment, gives a person the strength to get up from the table if the cuisine is too harsh on the palate. But that isn’t true with Kili, I could see myself tasting everything this man can offer and asking for seconds and thirds.

There is no operator in the lift as another couple enters with us, spoiling any potential fun. He selects the floor then settles against the wall to wait with more patience than I wish I had. The heavy feeling of arousal is making my skin crawl, making me want him here with no finesse or preparation. Fantasies from earlier of him behind me with my skirt tucked around my waist have me panting. Another time? Another place? I almost slap myself because there is no tomorrow, no ‘see ya next year’. There is only here and now. The anxiety of those thoughts doesn’t quench my thirst for him but shoves it into a higher gear, making me itch to feel and not waste another minute.

The brutal excitement is spreading through my body with every heartbeat, flushing me into an inferno that has only one satisfying ending. Gods be merciful, it’s almost too much. The lightening in this metal box is subdued as are the older couple beside us. The honey golden wood tone of the wall gleams, shooting back the glow with laser accuracy. The mirrored doors show just as much as the warm walls. Two people aching to touch and at once afraid that when they do, they couldn’t stop. The blazing heat of our attraction has caught him as it has me, setting him alight at a look. Maybe it started at the bar, or this afternoon before I helped him? It doesn’t matter because there is no feasible way to douse the flames that didn’t involve touch of some sort.

His eyes whispered the dark promise that he would fuck me to oblivion, take us right to the edge, make me scream for him. Holding Kili’s gaze isn’t hard, it’s sinful and exciting. The lace thong was a bad idea as it rubs over my mound in blissfully harsh sweeps when I flex my weight from one foot to the other, wetness coats my inner thighs. I almost want to jab the floor button but it won’t make the elevator go faster, so I clutch my raincoat and purse instead. My luck will be we get stuck in this metal box and my first time with him will be without latex _and_ in front of this other couple. That’s how bad I want him. I don’t think I would tell him no if he wanted me bareback. It just wasn’t in me to deny him anything.

The lift stops smoothly at his level with barely a jolt. It had been fast, no real time for chitchat with the others in the elevator and really, my tongue is wishing for Kili’s cock. The other couple discreetly move to one side to allow us exit as the doors open with a slight mechanical whirl. Beyond the doors is a tasteful seating area, elegantly small with just the right hint of intimacy against neutral walls. An explosion of purple gladiolas with wine colored carnations and pale lavender roses are the focal point of attention but then so is the black goldfish swimming amongst the pale green stems in the clear glass vase.

With a deep breath, I take my first step ahead of him, hoping that I haven’t just worked this guy up to be more than he is.  

**************

**_Kili_ **

Tauriel walks ahead out of the lift, desperation is socking in my gut harder than Tyson ever thought about. The enclosed luxurious transport from the lobby might be described as hell, because I would have loved to play peekaboo under her dress. Long straight legs in those stacked heels push her ass up and I’m elated to watch. A very fine derriere which looks as firm as a cantaloupe. Idly, thoughts of thumping it to see what kind of noises she would make come to mind. Shutting down those avenues of fucking her from behind so I can give that tight apple bottom a slap are for the best because I will come in my pants before I get in the room. Horrible first impression to have no restraint before the main event.

We arrived at my room quickly, almost at a run. The trip did seem short but my attention is firmly on that magical curve hiding under a pretty black dress. My hands shake a little as I get the key card into the slot and the green light says go! Adrenaline plus beer is making me crazed, lowering inhibitions and upping my straining erection. Pushing open the door, I gesture for her to proceed me and she does with a sultry look.

Tauriel reminds me of deer or gazelles as she moves around the room to switch on a lamp, all compacted grace and agility. Elusive breeds who have survived on their speed, she will never be caught unless it is by her will. Many others could have gotten this far but never understood the untamed spirit that she has captured deep inside. I see it after an hour of good conversation in a bar. I see the total package of brains and beauty, what Balin missed and my brother failed to understand. However tonight ends, it’s the animal side I am dying to set free. We can discuss the whys and hows of the universe later.

“Are you coming in?” She asks while draping her coat on a chair. Her clutch, a pretty thing big enough to hold a tissue takes a place on the desk.

Part of my brain sputters to life, making me realize I am standing in the doorway. Recollection becomes spotty or mental reception because I am not consciously aware of moving. The door is loud when closes, almost a slam. Desire has given me strength and a complete disregard for my neighbors. Tauriel smiled brilliantly in understanding, already one step ahead of me. Smart women don’t intimidate me, but I have no tolerance for the ones who act like I’m stupid. In her, a brain is a turn on. All of it, I’m so hot for her my teeth are sweating.

We come together in a heated clench, lips meeting urgency for the first time. The sweet wine on her tongue doesn’t mask her flavor, while only one is making me dizzy. She is out of her shoes and kicking them away, coming down to my height by a few inches. Its ok, any help is wonderful because my hands go anywhere they can get.

“Why are your hands shaking?” She nuzzled my ear, scrambling my brains like eggs in a bowl.

The clean taste of female invades my thoughts as my tongue traces her collarbone with the barest sniff of vanilla and citrus. Peach. The smell in my nose is peach and I know I could eat her for hours. Caster Troy ain’t got nothing on me when I get moving. Picking her up at the thighs, I take a seat on the bed behind us.

“Performance anxiety.” Yanking her into my lap is child’s play as I push back further to the middle, it earns me a gasp along with silky flesh and scratchy lace. “I tugged myself off this afternoon and I’m still hard.”

Her breath sucks in at a gasp then exhales in a rush as she latches onto my ear, winding closer. “Why?”

The pins scatter as my fingers dig into her hair, releasing it from the coif at her nap. A waterfall of hot vermillion flies about us in a sudden burst of color. Honestly is important, I have no reason not to tell her the truth. It will make me look as desperate as I am but that’s a thought for another day. She’s in my bed, sitting on my boner. All we have is tonight, and fuck all, I’m scared to death that it won’t be enough.

“I want you so badly.” The words a trigger for her. She gasps again, this time on my neck. “Does it excite you that I handled myself in the shower with your face in my thoughts?”

“Yes!”

The flood gates opened, swamping us in a storm surge of desire that stole my breath but left her clinging. Our lips came together again as she moans anxiously, wantonly with searching fingers gripping hard at my scalp. I can’t get enough and I didn’t want too, my hands searching and finding the weighted mounds on her chest topped with diamond hard nipples covered in chiffon. Tauriel is everything I could ever want in a woman as my lips take and take from her, the enforced duality that we all hate but secretly crave. Lawyer Jekyll and Ms. Hyde, the lady on the street but the freak in the bed.

“Oh gods, I need to stop.” She broke away from the kiss, gasping with those wild eyes and wilder hair. All thanks to my rampage of uncontrolled access to her delectable body. “I’m in over my head.”

“Me too.” I agreed, not letting go of the anchor I have, holding her tighter. “Drown with me.”

I claim her body, those lips on mine, in the same manner that she had shaken my world today, with bold intent and unrestrained glee. Had her grip been less, if she pushed at me now, I might have let her go. But it isn’t what she wants, not with those hands locked on my neck. The primal side in my brain takes over as my hands tightened in her flowing red hair. Those killer legs of hers wrapped around my middle like a kid’s hula-hoop with a rotating pelvis gridding against my crotch as I lay back on the bed for a better angle. I throw my head back with a groan as I dry hump her like a horny teenager too stupid to know what a zipper does.

I am Astonishment.

I am Desire.

I am Ecstasy and Rapture and the slightest bit of Greed.

There is a moment where fear blends into the grinding arousal as she tightens then pulls away. Watching her knee walk to the edge of the bed is hard but I let go when every part squeals at her departure. Her breathing is harsher than mine as she looks away to the floor in the space of minute, I’m scared she has regrets for what we were trying to do. Its when her hands inch to her neck to unclasp the loop of her dress then unzip the side, my life starts all over again with the loud shriek of a train whistle that explodes from my mouth.

She drops her reservations like her clothes, and in the liquid glare of sixty watt bulbs on sterile walls holds out her hands to me in joyous freedom. She is unbridled, carnal. I didn’t think I could want her more than I had earlier, yet I’m happy to be wrong. The bliss of her hands on me is acute as I yank her back, like the edge of a knife just like I thought it would be. Its razor sharpness will leave my soul in bleeding tatters when she walks out the door for there will never be another like her.

Jangling nerves merged with excited need won’t let me relax and enjoy. Some part of me is in constant motion, even my foot is joining the party with a sputtering tap on the duvet. One finger inserting into her flushed plump furrow sends a rippling over my dick. So wet and hot, a response I alone generated. Seductive mewls flex her throat as lips meet the rabbit pulse under her ear. Blushing skin, its sleek texture is my new happy hunting ground, with fingers chasing the heat between her legs.

She jackknifes in the bed as I pump my finger inside her channel and tease the walls. Ignoring a fast finish is hard but I want to watch, I want to see my mistress’s joy. Her eyes fly open, and her scream of sensation electrifies the room. Tauriel is two steps from overload and can’t stop moving as I insert another stroking finger. There’s a fine line that divides pleasure and pain, when a human become so edgy for fulfilment that the brain gets confused. If the brain catches up, the pain adds to the pleasure, in the most erotic way. Working this dripping well of her as she cries without words or tears hits me with a hammer force of arousal. It is what I see in her face, this same need and I want to see again and again before sunrise.

We clash in a fever, in wrestling exaltation. Trading scorching kiss for a heated touch, each reaching for the spots we love on the human body. Her collarbones for me, my ribs for her. So much wonderous sensuality and I want to taste, to pay homage to my mistress and make her shout the hotel apart with pleasure. She has the same ideas, not fighting me but just as lecherous. It is only when I take the bottom position to pull her waist back to my salivating mouth as she shoves my pants down that I feel like I can breathe again. It’s a fleeting moment, my lungs’ capacity to work is relative when she sucks down my cock to the root then rings the base with her teeth.

My hands slam into the bed with a bellow of a bull as my hips arch to her waiting mouth. Teeth on my manly bits has never been about pleasure, mostly fear but she has changed my thinking completely. There is so much suction on that very tender part of my genitals that my eyes might be open but they are completely blinded. The lightest humming sensation begins at the back of her throat as she curls her tongue around the head, stroking the rest of my member with her hands. My balls are bouncing like they are going to white wash her teeth so I do the only thing I can to stop the premature spuge that will embarrass me worse than those shoes. I push my face into that beautiful crotch just inches away.

She has been waxed recently, there is a fine stubble along her slit of dark brownish red. Normally, this would have suited me fine but tonight I almost wish for the reverse. Tauriel smells so clean and the taste on my tongue reminds me of a tart peach dipped in warm honey. I could lick her furry pelt for hours, nibbling at the springy curls and dive for more of the citrusy essence. To feel the scrape on my lips, the fringe of hair on my cheeks as I drink from her and beg for more. My tongue becomes a corkscrew at these thoughts, drilling with relish into soaking flesh.

Control is an illusion and that mouth so lovingly swallowing my pink lizard is skinning mine. Getting a 69 from her isn’t the distraction to keep me calm but gasoline on the bonfire, blazing away in my nethers. I nibble and suck my way down to her clit then back to the ticklish spot at the back edge of her opening. One long lick up that glorious pussy then start over and she won’t let go of my cock, just deep throats me until my eyes are starting to cross. She mouths me slowly on the upstroke, taking her time. Tauriel is exploring my dick with her mouth, instinctively learning each ridge and vein. Her hands are just as busy, rolling my balls with cleverly gentle attention. There is no excuse for this impossible reaction, hot sex is about attraction but I hadn’t lost my mind like this in long years.

Hard nipples brush my thighs, making me almost lose it right then. I don’t want my first blow to be in her mouth, I don’t know why but I don’t. Seeing her orgasm, watching her pleasure will keep me sane a while longer, so I slowly push her off. Those beautiful green eyes pinch in confusion as she rolls away. Worry replaces confusion as I sit up.

“Is everything ok? Did I hurt you or..” Vulnerability and fear is written in her hunched body, folding in on itself as if she could ever do anything wrong. Tentatively, she reaches for me and I take it to kiss the palm.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, but you are just too good at that. I don’t want to let go so quick.” I breathe deep as I kiss her fingers, then her wrist with her nectar glistening on my face.

Pulling her down to the bed with me, I flick my tongue over a distended nub before me. A sumptuous cherry on top of a frosted breast, watching it quiver under the attention feels like a dream come true. They are already sensitive from the stimuli of rubbing on me and everything else. Pinching the mate of the one in my mouth is cruel but the gasps she gives soothes my conscience as her hands tighten in my hair. Lapping at her budded tip, her body melts into mine, leaving me to sigh of pleasure. There is so much to see and to do, its an adult Disneyland. The sudden intake of breath lets me know where to go and how to proceed. An imperfect system but sex is trail and error. I want to give her the night of her life, to feel that the most was possible for her with me.

Tauriel rolls to her back, leaving her impossibly taut body open. Getting between her legs, I smooth down the length of her torso while her back arches it up to my hands. It’s satin, not silk that stretches over firm muscles and hard bone. She groans for me, deeply with bared teeth. I’m almost ashamed to touch her, my hands are course from working along side my family without groves or real thought to touching another. There are no manicures for Durins, hard work have chipped away the soft edges of us. Ms. Woods must be a mind reader because she takes my hands in hers, watching me the whole time as puts roughed digits on her soft breasts and squeezes. Hard.

It tells me all I need to know, she doesn’t care. She wants me, she chose me. So, I will give myself to her.

I taste and reveal in paradise. Her sleek ribcage, shielded by toned flesh. My tongue soothes the nips my teeth leave at the outer frame, pulling whimpers from her as she wiggles her hips at me. The invitation is hard to ignore but the time isn’t right, my control is threadbare. Her tits are still in my hands, molding under thick fingers. Grinding my cock into the bed keeps the wandering weasel from getting into her before I can lockdown my needs. It’s prudent, the right choice though she seems to disagree.

“More! Please touch…me!” Tauriel wrenches my head up by the hair, desperation is on each line of her face.

The pain in my scape snaps my control a little, pushing me to do mad things. I yank away and dive between her legs for another go at her pussy. Hitching her hips up, my tongue blazes a trail from her butt to her clit, drinking her down. Her whimpers, groans, the wonderful slick that tastes like nirvana. Separating the labia and dipping into her sex, her legs go over my shoulders so that her heels dig into my back. Swirling a tight circle around the sensitive pearl parting the swollen folds, Tauriel lets go, her orgasm is the sweetest rush I have ever known. Overwhelming yearning for more of it is a blessing now and will be curse later.

My mother has always stressed not speaking with a full mouth, but I praise her to the stars. The words are nonsense at first, then the general meaning becomes synonyms of the same. _Perfection_. It is her, all of her. Then suddenly its gone. She pulls away, grabbing at the box of condoms I left conveniently at the bedside table. As much as I would like to lick her into another release, my cock isn’t listening. The head is so slick when I try to spool the condom down, it’s like I’m pissing precum.

_My cock at her weeping entrance._

_Then the hard first thrust and the slow withdrawal._

Opening my eyes and watching her surprise and delight, learning a rhythm with her. The slippery fist that holds me, ripples and clinching in time with her sobbing cries. Disconnected hands map her skin, learning just how to touch her to bring out that sweet cacophony of vocal rapture. She's wants me hard, each dig or grip begs me louder than anything she says. Tauriel twists beneath me, raising her hips hastily until I reach bottom and my balls slap her ass. Her hot channel reshapes my thinking, blasting my sense of self until I am nothing but hers. My darling mistress controls me and I give everything for her pleasure.

The thrusts go from long and slow to hard and quick. I want to savor it but my body has other plans. Those muscular legs that I admired earlier are python tight and locked in place at my hips, holding her still for the ride I am pounding out. The keening groans from her are the best encouragement, so is her face as I lean up to watch her cum. Sweat sheens her body in the low light, giving her an ethereal glow. The shimmer in her eyes registered in my brain but I am too far gone to understand that it’s tears.

The thick wash of sex permeates the air as I grab for the headboard for more leverage. The world has no meaning when my shaft is so deep in her, brushing the bottom of her cunt that I can feel through the latex. Tauriel’s whimpers are getting louder as she nears the next peak. Her vaginal muscles clinch my hard erection, flowing contractions of an impending climax. Only when she tightened her hold on my body, only when she moaned ‘Kili’ do I allow the sweet burn of release. The hot splash in the condom is surprisingly disappointing, I don’t want barriers with her. Not now, not here in our bed.

A good fuck doesn’t slay me, but my Valkyrie has done just that. I’m a wretched mass of aching muscle – broken, spent, unable to move. Each breath has a cost as my lungs labor hard thanks to my nicotine pastime. Were I am older man, I’d have stroked out. But my mistress isn’t finished with me, not even close. Rolling me over, Tauriel mounts my hips to grab another condom in a rapid change out. The hilarious part is after cumming like a fire hose, my cock is still fully charged. Just the scent of her is like an aerosol version of Viagra, all simmering heat under the surface waiting for her to flare it back to life. The look on her face is feral as she stalks my cock with eyes then hands. The trembling moans aren’t singular from either of us as she pumps my dick to squeeze the head. Orgasms make hunters of us all, looking for our next shot of bliss with a pleasurable recoil.

 

_Later…._

 

Her tears on my chest are a baptism, anointing me as a born again sinner. Her hands that with the lightest touch brought me to a place that is new and utterly alien to what I know. She is a devil in disguise, a siren who has lured me with a kiss and the sweetest song of musical cries. It makes no difference why, I will be whatever she requires and more. The collar of love has snapped closed around my neck for the first time in my life, locked down with the seal of her full lips. There is a woman in my arms who is my match in every way but it isn’t happiness that makes me clutch her close. I want this, any of it, all of her until I take my last breath and pack it in. She is the one who needs convincing.

She pulls me across her again for another ride to the heavens and for the life of me, my cock has beaten the odds. It’s standing like a monument, a solid pillar of ecstatic jubilation. The tip is sensitive after so much exercise but her hands are reverent as she rolls down the condom. With tongue and breath, I worship her nipples as she wraps those legs about me. Praying that it will never end is ridiculous and a waste of time but this is my deity and this bed is my church. My pride is a willing sacrifice along with the blood, sweat and tears upon the altar we have built comprised of torn sheets and strewn pillows. Undulating into each other as if it were old instead of new, she is rewriting the testament of her desire on my back yet again. When Tauriel climaxes like a burning star in the east, my body follows and I die a beautiful death in the arms of my messiah.

**************

_Tauriel_

Love is a trick played by the forces of evolution, fundamental in design. Pleasure is the bait laid down by the same. I tasted the latter but the former scared me witless. He lay sleeping on as I dressed slowly, quietly. If he woke up, those warm brown eyes would find me. They would pull me back to the bed, lulling me to think with my twat instead of the vessel atop my shoulders. More decadent fucking would ensue, then I would be the fly caught instead of the spider. I would never leave him, following him where ever he led if only for his meagre attention. The women I had known, the contemptuous females that ran after a man in desperation, were just that. Contemptuous. Being the punchline of someone’s joke wasn’t part of my life’s plan.

Cowardice, a word that described me utterly, was still a word I hated. My purse is loaded with my thong as I drape my black trench over an arm, easing out the door. Had I been more of a coward and less of a slut, I would be in my bed, sleeping in blissful ignorance of what I had narrowly escaped. But I had bit the bait and now I’m caught in a web of my own making.

I felt in my shriveled heart the cruelty of what I was doing. Kili was a dish that was more than I could take at one sitting. Scoops of brave, rash and kindness swirled in a tight package that was hotter than the sun. A man who worked hard for what he wanted, didn’t slack nor freeload. Kili hadn’t gotten those rough hands from playing cricket or signing documents. He had brains by the ton and could carry on a conversation with a lawn ornament. He also fucked me stupid in a little less than five hours. More like he fucked me careless.

The hallway is empty and very much a blessing. The last thing I wanted was some ‘How do you do’s’ with his family at 4 am. As explanations go, there would be lots of interesting things said to which none of them would be worth the air used to cover my embarrassment at being caught doing the walk of shame. Hurrying down the hall to the elevators as quietly but quickly as I could, I had no notion if I am passing their rooms or not.

As I rounded the corner, the elevator doors were just beginning to close. “Hold the elevator please.”

A red taloned hand shoots out in reflex to stop the closure allowing me entry. The sight of the other occupant startles me into a giggle once I stepped into the metal box. There are people you expect to see in life and the others who sneak up on you when you are not looking. The ones who sneak either make you laugh or cry because there is no middle ground.

“Red dress with black hair.” Keeping the sniggering down is difficult.

“Black dress with red hair.” She answered.

The honeyed walls that had highlighted my desire so vividly isn’t as kind to my companion. Her dress is rumpled, tossed on a floor and walked upon several times. There looked to a smudgy heel print at the hemline that looked too big to be hers. She caught my perusal and covered up in defense but the damage was done and the evidence of her own night of pleasure had been spotted.

“We look like mirrored opposites of the whores of Babylon.” Two women wearing hooker clothes complete with fuck-me pumps in an elevator at 4 am should always be blunt. It’s in a girls scout handbook somewhere.

Looking at the lighted panel, she is heading for the same destination. The Lobby floor should be deserted at this time of morning. The odd cleaning staff and front desk personnel will be roving the expanse for the stray out of place decoration or cleaning a dirty spot. It would be the best time to leave with a minimum of attention. The occupant in the elevator with me thought the same.

“I didn’t get paid for tonight.” Idril sniffed like she was better than me. Oh, that wouldn’t do at all.

“No, but you got fucked!” I was laughing now, I couldn’t help it. “Those hickeys on your neck and chest are going to be hard to cover up on that pale skin. The ones on your back will be fine.”

Her hand automatically went to her nap, she scowled at what I made her do. The pale shadows dotted the upper line of her body, reflected in the gleaming bright doors. Idril faced me but hadn’t realized what was glaring behind her in bold relief. She really should have taken a good look at herself before she left the rooms, the nice eco activist looks like a common streetwalker with junkie habits.

“I don’t have to ask who you were with.” Idril shot the words at me as she drew on her coat. “I doubt it was Balin. That old man would have had heart attack before you unzipped your dress.”

Damn right he would have. It was an automatic thought but grandpa Durin hadn’t raised my blood pressure that way. I don’t have a daddy fetish, not in the slightest. Not when a side of prime Canadian beef is two feet away with all the promise of giving me as much of his ‘horn’ as I can take.

“No.” I agreed. Thinking of what I left made me straighten before I went back on the attack. “But since you bring it up, based on the state of your neck, I am glad my bed partner wasn’t the blond.”

Fili Durin had done nothing for me, though in retrospect he had done a lot to Idril by the looks of it. She wasn’t complaining, probably walking as lopsided as I am if cock size is a genetic trait. My pussy is pleasantly stretched but my inner thighs are screaming louder now than I was earlier. My voice makes me internally wince because it makes me sound like a chain smoker with a Scotch addiction.

She looked horrified for a minute. “Did you even bother to learn their names?”

“Why? They are leaving tomorrow. Out of sight, out of mind.” The door opened and I powerwalked to the entrance for a cab. I can’t think about what I am leaving, I just need to go.

The dawn was coming but not for a while. The harsh morning reality would tell a different tale, he might be out of sight but it would be along time before I forgot Kili Durin. Standing at the curb, I motion to the sleepy doorman for a cab and sit back in my heels to wait. My brain might have taken an alternate route with the sidebar in the elevator with Idril but the problems that pushed me to run were inching back to the fore.

“A funny business, a woman's career - the things you drop on your way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you'll need them again when you get back to being a woman. That's one career all females have in common, whether we like it or not.” Her expression holds pity that pushed me from annoyed to incensed as she stepped closer. “Nothing's feels right until you can look up just before dinner or turn over in bed and see him there.”

“That’s you, tree hugger, all you. I want to live my life to the fullest and that doesn’t include a white picket fence.” The doorman hailed a cab for me, giving me a once over all the same. No asshole, I’m not a hooker but my friend is, I thought with a snark as he opened the door for me.

The breeze up my shirt reminds me that there is a possibility of flashing unless I am careful. Taking a seat in the cab, I grouse and snarl when Idril plops down beside me. “My cab.”

“I’m two blocks over from you, we can share.” The slight red lipstick smudge on her top lip gives her a deranged look reserved for movie vampires. It makes me wonder why she does the boring style at work.

The cab pulls away when we give the addresses. Her bullshit gives me pause because I had always considered myself hard to read. Had she saw us in the lobby bar? How could she possibly guess at what I’m trying desperately not to feel?

The silence doesn’t last when Whore of Babylon Sr. cranks up her spiel. “So I was in Fili’s bed, we have agreed that Balin would never be able to stand it. So that leaves Thorin or Fili’s brother, Kili. Unless you finally broke down and gave Turgon his Christmas wish.”

The urge to slap the taste out of her mouth for the Turgon comment passes but I remain silent. It was none of her business, so she could think what she liked. What I had done, I did for me and no one else. Just like her bold step from the hotel, her life was her business. If she was indulging in a closet kink and Fili let her explore it, who knows and I don’t care. There are too many things yelling for attention in my skull to give head space to whatever it is she is trying to get out in her own vague way. Idril sighed out into an almost nasally whistle, rubbing her eyes as exhaustion gripped her faster than me.

The black of night is shoved away by the street lamps that streak by the cab windows. The driver is really laying down the speed, concerned that he has high dollar call girls in the back. I want to lay my head on the glass and forget the truth of what I know but not in front of Idril. She isn’t a gossip in the truest sense but too much champagne at Christmas or beer at a backyard BBQ would loosen her lips like any other.

“Kili. I remember now, how he watched you during the meeting.” She whispered tiredly.

“I am shocked you could see beyond the brother.” Biting out the words at her is akin to beating a dead horse, a rather useless endeavor. I’m really not in the mood for taxi cab confessions and if I was, it wouldn’t be with her.

The cab takes a turn that puts me within a mile of my apartment. Whatever sympathy or curiosity I feel for my female companion is dissolving under the weight of exhaustion. A power nap will get me through the morning, then maybe leave work after a late lunch. Alfrid the Toady’s depos will need to be reviewed and notes will need to be entered for whatever the Lasgalens are planning for the Durins. I can’t call out of work, no matter how wrung out I feel.

“Its noteworthy that you barely spoke during the meeting. You are usually leading the charge for the opposition’s head, but today, or yesterday I guess, nothing. I think you got knocked off your ass when you got a good look at a man who could rock your world out from under the Lasgalens, my dear.” She sniggered and for once, it felt like the tree hunger had a few teeth hidden by her soft smile.

Not liking how close to the truth that could be, I decided to bail before she started peeling back my candy coating for the tootsie pop center. Tapping on the glass for the driver’s attention, I say. “Here’s fine.” I stuff two twenties into the slot as I reach for the door handle. “Spare me the street corner psycho babble, Idril. It’s going to be a cool day, try a scarf for those love bites. We can’t have the office thinking you are some sort of paganist harlot.”

She actually laughs as I get out of the interior, laughs without the hollow ring that bitterness colors. I know that bitterness, its sliming its way through me as her words give a hammer blow to my self-esteem. I left him, it was the right choice, I say over and over as I walk the block and half. No regrets and no tears in my beer. His life is in Canada, mine is with the Lasgalens. I made this decision and I will stick with it. The words are cold comfort now, and so is my colder bed.

**88**88**

The power nap became power sleep, about an hour over. Another harried morning of get dressed, tightening up and running to work. Its all a blur though, an uncaring cycle of crap and drains me to apathy. I’m already late so, stopping at Starbucks doesn’t matter. It’s a dreary morning, raining heavy drops that make me think of tears. Not like the tears that came in the shower while I bathed, but the crushing soul feel of a life ending. Aborted at conception, and it hurts so very much.

I dress in funeral gear: dark gray blouse tucked into black pants. Even my shoes are conservative, blocky clogs that could have been worn by nun. The traitorous hair, in all of its frizzy glory had cooperated and I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it. The waves of stacked streaked fire lay properly down my back as I stare out the window, waiting in line for my coffee. More than one man has eyed me appreciatively but all it does is make me sick. None of them are Kili.

The lone color in my drab ensemble is a unique scarf of blood red roses on a black and white checkered background. It gives draws the eye but also hides the fact that Idriel wasn’t the only one who walked away with few marks. Staring at them this morning gave me shivers and wrenching pain but I still took a picture of them in remembrance for the night my heart broke into more pieces than stars. The preparation H would only cut so much puffiness around the eyes since I didn’t have time for cucumbers. Crying in Starbucks is not allowed, so I suck up my feelings in true blue trooper style. Taking deep breaths is my new relaxation technique, the jury is still out about whether or not it works.

Gray sidewalks, gray weather merges into a grey town as I walk to Greenwood. The monochromatic color scheme continues in the faces of the people I pass on the street, each of us trudging on in the rat race of our lives. Depression holds me close, slowing my heart so that it feels like the lead weight that it is. How do others live afterwards? They must pick up the pieces and move forward. This wasn’t what I wanted, ever. I had been very careful to keep men at arms length, choosing relationships that had high enjoyment levels with the least amount of emotional impact. It isn’t as easy as it sounds, either. Men aren’t simple creatures, no matter what the advertisements say.

Walking into the atrium, I barely get a nod out to the security people at the desk. The flowers, so hysterically vibrant might as well be dull and lifeless for all of the blimp it puts in my mood. There are people milling still, registering on the fringe of my mulled thoughts. The drones queue have cleared out reminding me again of my tardiness. The Lasgalens were going to have a big last night with the Durins. A delicious dinner downtown with topless waitresses at one of their favorite establishments, it is doubtful they are in this early. Concerns over what Thranduil might say if he knew about last night niggles at me, but not much of one. His own naughty habits were long since beyond sad.

Plodding is a hideous word but it’s how I make it to my floor. I purposely avoid the last elevator where Kili had touched me yesterday. There is no way I can do it in my present mental slump. The drones would find me curled into a corner, trying desperately not to cry. There is no need for that kind of gossip, I’m a professional. I don’t break down in public, it will come later when I get home and there are there layers of security between me and the outside world.

Oddly, the moles are quiet, peeping over their burrow/cubes as I walk by. It would have given me a start under normal situations, making me wonder if HR is waiting for me or a gunman is hiding in a closet. My somber spirits insulate me from them, blinding me to everything but my broken life. A few wheel into another cube beside them and whispering light at first then a subtle roar takes over the silence.

Alfrid the Toady slinks to me in an officious capacity that should have made me wary but I don’t have the feelings to care. He breaths that halitosis smell at me that my strong coffee doesn’t cover. “It started early, Ms. Woods. There is a card but of course..”

I cut him off, snappishly. “What are you talking about? What started early?”

The speed in my step now has adrenaline behind it when I notice Idril walking out of my office with a smirk on her damnable face. She folds her arms, to lean back at against the door. Her pale lime dress makes her white skin look sickly green, but the darker emerald scarf wound at her neck helps a little. The smirk widens into a gloating smile as I draw level to her.

“Tree hugger in green, how original.” It’s wrong to take my foul mood out on her now but a few hours sleep isn’t making me play by the rules of conventional society.

“There is so much I can say to you in return but then I would miss the chance to say I told you so.” She steered me into my office, closing the door on Alfrid’s shocked face.

I’m rooted where I stand. I can’t move, staring at the most amazing thing of my life. My office isn’t large, maybe eight by ten with file cabinets bracketing a corner and a decent desk on one side. But there are roses on every spare surface. Burgundy Reds, snow whites, candy pinks, gorgeous reds with the white throats like I got yesterday. Periwinkle with lavender brushes sit tall in the chairs. There must be ten dozen or more, all arranged in different amounts in so many vases. The smell is overpowering, squeezing my lungs to steal my breath. My heart falters and starts then lies still.

“This came with it.” Idril hands me a single card. The smile is gone, worry replaces the smirk.

Snatching the card with shaking hands, damn fingers aren’t supposed to mutiny on me when I need them most. Yanking the single white florist stock out, the black type hits me in the gut to explode like an atom bomb of pain.

_Remember me fondly because I can never forget you. Your smile will be in every dream and your name on every falling star._

Remember him fondly? How is possible to ever forget him? Gasping noises arrow in the squared space and it takes a minute for me to realize I am making those sounds. Tears blind me totally, with the bone breaking agony of loss that doubles me over. I can’t stand this, I won’t survive this amount of sorrow. How can the body still live when the soul is in this much pain? Why on God’s green planet did I leave this morning?

Idril is there, holding me close in her strong arms. “Breathe, honey, just breathe through it.”

Someone walks in on us as I drop to the floor on my knees with Idril still holding me to her. The room is spinning with tears, drowning in them though I live. She screams at them to get the fuck out. The door closes immediately and I almost laugh out loud at her gall. Who knew she could swear or scream like that?

 _Drown with me_.. he had whispered.. and I had drowned… I was drowning still..

“Why are..why are you.. here?” I stammer at her, considering the bitch mode I have been in since last night, she must be doing penance to put up with me.

“You fell for him, Tauriel. You know you did. It was all over your face in the elevator this morning.” Her words are soothing and damnit, she’s right. It’s the beginnings of something deeper, that could grow wild and free. “I loved someone once and I lost him. He died and I can’t have that love again. I don’t want you to have that regret. Go to him, Tauriel. Don’t let him go.” She rocked me, like a mother does a hurt child. Two women both knew the pitfalls and the promise of what love could bring.

There is tender truth in this moment and I don’t know what to do. I want him, so much it hurts. Staring at each flower, every rose and all their thorns, I might sweep this under the rug and forget. Live my life in Seattle, live a half life with no joy in it or I could take a chance on what might be the best thing ever. Old fears of loss reared its ugly head, making me worry about what might happen if I fall of the cliff of rejection. This isn’t a soap opera, life doesn’t promise happily ever afters.

I could throw five thousands reasons why going to the airport after him was stupid but only one was justified. “What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if it was just a good night for him? It was one night!”

Idril tugged me to my feet with a hideously angry expression. Left hand to god, she looked like she could beat me down Ronda Rousy style. “I don’t care if you tied him to a bed, beat him with his own belt with his foot up your snatch. Men do not send enough roses to stock a respectable funeral if they had just a good night!”

My mouth is on auto and the first thing that popped into my head fell out in a rush. “Is that how you got KY on your dress? I am soooo glad it was Kili last night.” Wiping the tears away, the laughter just couldn’t be stopped.

“Tauriel, get your bony ass in cab and get to the airport. Don’t let it end this way. Their flight leaves in about an hour. You have time!” Idril all but shoves me out the door, grabbing my purse as she does. I can’t help but laugh still at this.

The black haired barracuda yanks me down the hall, passed Alfrid’s horrified expression and twenty other entry levels who are struck dumb at what they are seeing. Little miss goody two shoes is manhandling me and screaming on her cell for someone to meet us downstairs. The elevator has me laughing hysterically now with no signs of stopping. She has commandeered Thranduils’ special glass rocket on the side of the building, bypassing the wait and the long lines at the main lift bank. There will be hell to pay but Idril doesn’t care and really neither do I.  

As the crystal bullet streaks for the earth, I look at her with wide eyes. She isn’t the quiet mouse, a tree hugger with a soft spine. Idril had a past like the rest of us, only she isn’t letting me have the same past. I can see that and more, I respect it. Having female friends is a challenge, hopefully she will be my first.

“I’m sorry for everything, Idril.” She looks at me and huffs a snort at me as the lift stops with a bounce. Convincing her would be difficult under normal circumstances, though this stopped being normal about forty eight hours ago. “Everything I’ve said and I want to say thank you. Really, thanks so much.”

“You’re difficult, not impossible. That belongs to Turgon. There’s your ride.” One of the drivers, a female that I don’t know well is standing in the lobby with an annoyed expression.

“Thranduil is going to be pissed!”

“No, he won’t. He likes watching me and his secretary make out on the boardroom table.” Her tone was calm while my eyes bugged even further out of my head. It is the last thing I expected her to say. “What he does after I leave… Enjoy the white picket fence.” Idril shrugged and walked back to the elevator, leaving me stunned to follow the driver to a black sedan that is waiting at the curb.

She’s good, I have to admit, this chauffer finds every chink in traffic, even a hole too small for a gopher. Jason Statham must be a relative because we made it from the Business District just north of Pioneer Square to Seattle Tacoma airport in greased lightning time. Had there been a flux capacitor in the trunk we could have been back in time before we hit the expressway. The street cameras will have picked up something. Thranduil is going to get a call since Greenwood is listed as the owner. I guess that means Idril will be spending some more time on the boardroom table for the boss' visual enjoyment. 

Wheels and brakes squeal while the momentum throws me forward. We are parked just outside international flights when the driver hands me a card with her number. She has every intention of waiting though it leaves me in a quandary. Tucking the card in a pocket, I rush from the vehicle swiftly looking around for a prompter that had their flight info. Air Canada has their flights posted as I run thoughtlessly down the terminal, pushing a few people out of my way.

An attendant stops me in my tracks before I leap over a businessman’s roller suitcase. “Hey lady, slow down!”

I shake him a little because my nerves have me speeding faster than the limo. “I need to stop a flight! Has the Air Canada plane to Calgary left?”

He lets me go, seeing my distress. Its causing commotion, people are staring and pointing at me and I don’t blame them. Under normal circumstances, I would remove myself in case the deranged person wants to start shooting things. This day and age has become more closely aligned with self-preservation than helping your fellow man.

But the attendant is different, he smiles as he takes my hand. “I’m very sorry, madam. Air Canada to Calgary took off ten minutes ago.”

The waterworks start all over again, and I thank the man, Aragorn for his help. Its Karma, it has to be. I find a man who is off the charts handsome, smart and lights my feminine parts up like the fourth of July. My orgasms had ratings on the Richter scale, and he left to go home before I could tell him that I want there to be more. Watching the planes take off into the distance, I have never felt more desolated in all my life.

“Tauriel?”

Whipping around I find him, sitting alone by a long sheet of glass with a view of Seattle’s skyline. _Kili_. He stands up and walks to me, drawing me to him at the same pace. He’s in jeans and a comfortable long sleeve tshirt, dressed for a plane ride. Looking around, I don’t see his family anywhere. Idril said there was time but the attendant said I missed it. Confusion clouds me fast but Kili reaches to wipes my face slowly, brushing away the tears tenderly with just his fingertips. I lose myself in his eyes, in the revelation that he is here, now. He had not left.

My hand find his cheek, I see him lean to scrub my palm with the bristly stubble that I love between my legs. The same confusion is on his face and mine, so I take the first step into the unknown. I don’t look over the edge, I just leap and hope for a safe landing.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight.” It isn’t the most articulate thing I could say but my brain and mouth are not on speaking terms.

He smiles at me, almost laughing. “I don’t believe in fate.”

“I didn’t want to leave this morning.” It’s hard to admit but I do it, he has to know I didn’t leave because of anything other than he was leaving this morning.

“I couldn’t get on that plane.”

 

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank each and every one who have messaged, kudo'd or subscribed to this story. Its hard to say one is the fave but this story is really up and its hard to finish it.
> 
> Thank you so very much !!
> 
> Shamelessly stole the bit about corporate women from the movie All About Eve with Bette Davis. Love the old movies and that quote fit the moment.. I don't own the rights to it either.. Or Hobbit or the lyrics I quoted lol..

**Author's Note:**

> I really needed to write some fluffy smut and this jumped up and Hi there! The characters are OOC obviously and so far from canon they are in a different area code.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! All comments are welcome and appreciated
> 
> I do not own LOTR or Hobbit, I just play around with the characters in odd degreees.


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